


Missing

by aMUSEment345



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Drama, Friendship, Gen, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2018-09-08 10:21:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 41,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8840872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aMUSEment345/pseuds/aMUSEment345
Summary: A team under siege must come together to search out their missing genius. Written to fill the void of the Reidless episodes of Season 12. Team fic.





	1. Chapter 1

_**A.N. This was started a few weeks ago, before the events of 'Scarecrow', with the intention of it being a two-shot, to counter withdrawal during season 12's Reidless episodes, now postponed (courtesy of the debate and the World Series) until after the holiday hiatus. However, it doesn't look like the story is going to fit into two chapters anyway, so up it goes, earlier than planned. Maybe it will last us until we see our favorite genius back on screen next month. Tara and Luke are still pretty unformed, for me. And the new new guy is just too 'new'. Don't know that we'll see him in this.** _

* * *

**Missing**

**Chapter 1**

JJ rushed in, knowing she was late.

_If I have to carry one more diorama into that school, I swear…_

She dumped her keys on her desk and tucked her go bag underneath, looking around as she did. Reid's cubicle was empty, his chair neatly pushed in and, most remarkable of all, there was no steaming mug of coffee sitting atop his desk.

"Where's Spence?"

Not addressing anyone in particular, though Tara and Luke were seated nearby.

She'd caught her male colleague's attention. Luke looked at Reid's empty desk and simply shrugged.

"Don't know. Haven't seen him yet."

"Tara?"

She shook her head as well. "Sorry. No idea."

JJ sorted out her belongings and started up her computer.

"Hmm. It's not like him to be so late. I hope he's all right."

Luke barely looked away from his email.

"Maybe he took the day off. Doesn't he have something going on?"

"You mean with his mother?"

"Huh? Oh, is that what it is? I guess I haven't been paying that much attention."

JJ smiled at her new co-worker. "I doubt you missed anything. Spence doesn't talk all that much about his personal life."

_Not to most people, anyway._

Tara looked up from the file she'd been reviewing. "I've noticed that, too. He's pretty reserved, isn't he?"

"Reid?" Now engaged in the conversation, Luke was surprised to hear someone call Reid 'reserved'. "Isn't he always rambling about something or other, usually at great length?"

His words irked JJ, though she couldn't have said why. But she knew enough to correct the new profiler.

"Spence has a wealth of knowledge, and he gets excited when he can contribute some of it to a case. But none of that is personal."

Tara had been with them long enough to understand. "He feels more comfortable citing facts than he does sharing about himself."

JJ gave her a slow nod. "Something like that."

_But, really, it's more like he sees people tune out to his facts, and can't believe they could possibly be interested in him._

She tried texting him and, after ten minutes of no response, she tried calling him as well. The call went to voice mail, on both his home and cell phones. With each failed communication, her level of worry increased. It simply wasn't like Spence to not respond, let alone to shirk a duty.

"I'm going up to talk to Emily. Maybe she knows."

A short detour, and she poked her head into Garcia's lair.

"Hey, PG…"

The flowers in her hair moved in the breeze created as Garcia twirled her chair.

"Good morning, sweet thing. What can I do for you?"

JJ smiled her hello. "Have you seen Spence?"

"Uh-oh. Are we missing our genius?"

JJ shrugged. "I don't know. It just doesn't look like he's here yet, and no one seems to know anything about it. I was on my way to ask Emily, but I thought I'd check in with you first."

"Sorry, love. Haven't heard from him. Maybe that old relic of his finally broke down."

"But he would have called, right? Unless…."

Both women conjured mental images of a crumpled front end, and flashing lights, and sirens. Reid's not-quite-antique roadster had none of the modern safety features.

Garcia swung herself back around, typing even as she spoke. "Go check with Emily. I'll work my magic here."

JJ hurried down the hall with more urgency in her step. Emily's door was, as usual, open, the new unit chief turned toward the window, on her phone. JJ knocked lightly on the jamb to gain her friend's attention. Emily turned, held up a finger in abeyance, and then quickly ended her call.

"Sorry, I know. Is everybody waiting?"

Obviously assuming this was about her late arrival to the morning meeting.

"No, but I can tell them you're ready. Except that we're missing one of us."

Emily looked her confusion, prompting JJ to continue.

"Spence isn't here. I came up to ask if you knew where he was. Did he need to take time off?"

Any 'need' would most likely have to do with his mother. Last year, he'd withheld Diana's downturn from the team, until JJ had pried it out of him. Afterward, she'd exacted a promise from him, that he would remember who the _rest_ of his family was, and allow them to help him carry his burdens.

Emily's brows were furrowed now, equally as dark but not at heavy as those of her predecessor. Tangentially, JJ wondered if they were part of the unit chief job description.

"He didn't say anything to me. I take it you've tried calling him already?"

"Home and cell. And texted. He's not responding to anything. Garcia's investigating on her network."

"Is she pinging him?"

"I didn't ask her to, but….it's Garcia. What do you think?"

"I think we'd better go and see what she's found out."

A quick trip down the hall, and they were back at the tech room.

"What have you got, PG?" Emily's voice carried the weight of both authority and concern.

"Well, I know you all count on me not to violate your privacy, so I went with the obvious first. No cell towers down, no power outages, no service providers out. No major accidents on the highways, which is a miracle in itself. A bunch of minor ones, a couple with injuries…."

JJ interrupted. "Did you try…"

"Of course I did, my dear. No one named Spencer Reid has been admitted to the Emergency Department of any of the hospitals that service his route to work. And no John Does, either."

Emily exchanged glances with the two other women, then gestured to Garcia.

"Go ahead. Ping him."

The tech analysts fingers flew over her keyboard. "Pinging…..pinging….ping….uh-oh."

The other two women spoke simultaneously.

"What?"

"His phone is in his apartment."

The unit chief didn't even have to give the order. JJ gave it herself.

"I'm going over there."

But Emily did have an order to add. "Take Alvez with you."

* * *

Jennifer Jareau looked like a woman on a mission as she navigated the streets with just a little more speed than was comfortable. From the passenger seat, Luke Alvez queried her.

"Is this how it always is when someone is late to work? Because, if it is, I'd better have a talk with Roxy about the 'stop-and-sniff' routine when we're out for our morning run."

JJ's immediate reaction was to be annoyed, but then she thought about it from her companion's point of view. Reid hardly qualified as a missing person by being an hour late to work. And yet, they knew, each of them, his old teammates…they felt it….something was wrong. Was it intuition? Or something else? Something 'profilable'?

Her fingers tapped impatiently against the steering wheel as they were stopped for a traffic light.

"It's not our usual. If it was, I'd have to have my own unit, just to search for me, ever since Henry was born. It's amazing how much time a little body can tie up. And, as Spence would say, it's exponentially worse with two little bodies. So, no…..we're used to one of us being late, now and then."

"So?"

"So, we're not used to _Spence_ being late. He just never is."

Which wasn't quite true, but she wasn't about to explain it to her new teammate. That time when it had been common for Reid to be late was well in the past, even if it was still fresh in her mind. He'd borne the _burden_ of his addiction, but she'd always felt like she had to share the _fact_ of it with him. She had, after all, left him alone, every bit as much as he'd left her.

"Okay, I can go with that. But you're all acting like it's life-or-death. Why?"

JJ liked Luke Alvez well enough. He was an affable guy, and he fit in well with the team. But, just this minute, she ached to have Morgan back. Morgan would have known. He would have understood.

_Hell, he would have led the charge!_

Morgan wouldn't have required an explanation about how their resident genius was a trouble magnet. He wouldn't have needed to be told about how Reid always gave someone the benefit of the doubt, even when it might put himself in danger. Morgan would have known that Reid sometimes got lost in his own thoughts, oblivious to the world around him. Oblivious to the potential dangers of that world.

They pulled to the curb just down the street from Reid's building, and JJ took off for it at a sprint. Not having a better plan, Luke followed her as she ran up the stairs to Reid's landing. JJ pulled an object from her pocket, raising the brows of her teammate.

"You have a key to his apartment?"

He didn't know quite what to make of that. JJ was married, he was sure of it. He'd seen pictures on her desk, of her kids and her husband.

_Maybe they had a 'thing' before?_

JJ didn't have to be a profiler to read the expression on her companion's face.

"It's the emergency key. Spence doesn't have any family….locally….so I have a key. You know, just in case."

Alvez gave a slow nod. "And this would be the 'just in case'."

She shrugged. "It's as good a time as any."

She was 99% certain that he wouldn't answer, but she knocked first. Her mind brought her back to another time when she'd knocked, and he'd not answered, even though he'd been on the other side of the door. The image of him from that time…worn, unshaven, forlorn….rose in her mind, and she wondered.

_Could he have flashed back? Did something happen to bring it all crashing back in on him? Or did I miss something else with my best friend?_

Remembering how it had felt when he'd not chosen to share Maeve with her. Not the fact of her, not the circumstances. She still carried guilt about any part she'd played in putting that kind of distance between them.

And now, she had to wonder if it had happened again.

_Has there been something else in your life that you couldn't share with me? Something wonderful? Something sad? Oh, Spence, I wish we were like we used to be._

They were better…oh, so much better…than they'd been for a long time. But they weren't as they'd once been.

_I guess you can't really go back. You can only look in that direction._

She'd given him enough opportunity to answer. This time, she knocked more forcefully.

"Spence! Spencer Reid, if you're in there, please open the door. It's me! It's JJ."

After another twenty seconds of nothing, she put the key into the lock and turned the knob. She gestured to Luke to indicate that he should push the door open while she led the way in, but he waved her off. If it was bad, he didn't want her seeing it first.

There wasn't time to argue, so JJ let him have his way. They exchanged places, and she pushed the door gently in as he made his way past it, weapon drawn.

"FBI!"

Hearing the acronym shouted out as they entered the home of her best friend made for a strange disconnect inside JJ's head. They were treating Spence's place like a crime scene, and she simply couldn't absorb that. She spent a second in silent prayer that it wasn't, before following Luke inside.

JJ took a decidedly less professional approach in calling out.

"Spence! Spence, are you here? Just knock on something, if you can't talk."

Nothing.

Reid's apartment was straightforward. The larger living space was open, with an easy view into the kitchen. Reid was obviously not in either of those spaces. A small hallway gave way to two bedrooms and a bathroom. She started down the hallway cautiously.

"Spence?" More softly now. She toed the door to the guestroom open, moved quickly inside to look at the far side of the bed. Nothing. So she moved back into the hallway, taking a quick look into the bathroom. The shower curtain was pushed aside, giving a clear view of the empty tub.

JJ moved toward the end of the hallway, and Reid's bedroom. She'd only been in it once before, when he'd managed to catch one of Henry's day care bugs, and she'd felt guilty enough to tend to him. This time, she prayed that she would find him ill again, or just dead asleep, and not…

But that room was empty as well, the bed obviously not slept in. JJ holstered her gun and started exploring the space in more detail.

"JJ!"

"I'm back here! End of the hall!"

Luke entered the room, putting his own weapon away as he did.

"He's obviously not here, and it doesn't look like there's any sign of a struggle."

JJ was busy pushing back curtains and lifting pillows.

"His phone has to be here somewhere. Garcia found it with her system, so it has to be on."

Luke studied his colleague, usually much cooler and calmer in the field.

"Uh….can I suggest….why don't you just call it?"

_Of course! How stupid!_

And she realized just how rattled she was, even as she pushed the number '3' on her phone. Luke took note of the fact that Reid was a rapid dial for JJ.

They both stood silently, listening for a ring tone, or absent that, for the buzz of a vibrating phone. When neither sound presented itself, they moved back into the main living area, and JJ tried again. This time, there was a faint sound, but JJ had to try a third time before they could locate it.

"It's here! It was stuck between the cushions on the sofa." Holding the phone triumphantly.

Luke smiled. "There you go. He probably left and didn't even realize he wasn't carrying it. I'll bet he's already at the BAU."

JJ shook her head as she tapped at the screen of Reid's phone. "Garcia would have told us. He's still….. oh, my God."

She sank to the sofa.

"What? What is it?"

JJ held the screen out toward Luke. "Look."


	2. Chapter 2

**Missing**

**Chapter 2**

Luke Alvez had been of the opinion that his colleagues were overreacting to something that no doubt had a simple explanation. Granted, Garcia had been unable to find any trace of Spencer Reid, but then, again, how much trace did one leave, between home and work?

Alvez had been certain it would all turn out to be a case of a missed train, or a dead battery. When JJ had found Reid's phone between the cushions of his sofa, Luke had assumed they'd found the cause of his lack of communication. He'd been certain they would all be laughing about it, later in the day. And, just maybe, he might have indulged in an eyeroll or two. But then his female colleague had shown him the screen on Reid's phone, and everything had changed.

"Who is that?"

His question went unanswered as JJ pulled out her own phone and punched a number. As soon as it connected, she issued a command.

"Garcia, run his phone."

An uncharacteristic moment of hesitation preceded the tech analyst's response.

"Jayje….are you sure?"

There were unwritten, but well understood, laws of privacy among the team. No profiling. No 'detecting'. And, particular to Garcia, no electronic spying. The former two had oft been broken, sometimes unwittingly. But the latter had stood firm.

Until today. "Do it, Pen."

Garcia reacted to the tone of her friend's voice and began the process. But that didn't mean she wouldn't probe.

"Has something happened to Boy Wonder? What did you find?"

"His apartment is empty. But we found his phone."

"He left without his phone? Doesn't that explain..…oh. Oh, my God. I see it now."

"Find out who sent it."

"But it says…."

"I don't care what it says. Find out who sent it."

From the intensity of the look on JJ's face, Luke knew to let the scene play out. He could ask again about the photograph on Reid's phone, but he knew he wouldn't get answer until JJ was satisfied with her information.

They could both hear the clacking of keys as the tech analyst's fingers flew across her keyboard.

"It's….damn it, it's a throwaway. But I can tell you it was sent from…"

"Las Vegas. Yes, that much, I believe."

"But why would she be..…"

"Exactly."

"Oh, my God. You don't think this is real!"

Catching on, at last. But only partly.

"Oh, I think it's real, all right. I just don't think it's true."

* * *

The not-quite-whole team was gathered at the round table, as JJ started recapping the events of the morning.

"So, when Spence wasn't here when I got in today, and no one had heard from him, Garcia pinged his phone. It looked like it was still in his apartment, so…."

"So," Emily took over, "I sent JJ and Luke over to check it out."

Tara knew there was more coming, but she interrupted to clarify a point.

"So, even though the most likely thing was that he'd just overslept, or maybe didn't feel well, you thought you needed to send two agents because of….."

Emily nodded. "Mr. Scratch. Yes."

No one had to tell Tara about the danger Peter Lewis posed to the members of the BAU team, nor to their families. The very fact of their meeting being led by Emily Prentiss was reminder enough. They'd already lost a much respected and much beloved unit chief...and friend...to the brilliant maniac. And Tara had just been through a bizarre ordeal involving the captivity of her own brother, who had been 'replaced' by another Mr. Scratch victim, brainwashed into believing he was said brother. There had been security details on all of them, and their family members, ever since Peter Lewis had shown his evil potential. And, obviously, those details had proven to be anything but impermeable.

Luke took the story from there.

"We went to his apartment, and it looked pretty much untouched. No sign of a struggle, nothing displaced…."

"Was his bag there?" Garcia interrupted. "His messenger bag. He never goes anywhere without his messenger bag." She hadn't thought to ask before.

JJ responded this time. "I didn't see it anywhere. That's why I think he left of his own accord. But he forgot his phone. We found it fallen between two of the cushions on his sofa."

Rossi was curious. "Are you sure he forgot it? Do you think he just misplaced it accidentally, or do you think he left it there on purpose?"

The answer to that question was crucial. Had Reid been in trouble, and left the phone where he hoped they would find it? Or had he simply departed his apartment too hurriedly, not realizing he'd left his phone behind?

JJ gave an unhappy shrug. "I can't tell. I only know that there's trouble, and it's aimed at Spence."

Tara spoke up again. "Do we have the photo?"

That was Garcia's cue to put it up on screen. She aimed her remote over her shoulder as she narrated.

"This was on the screen when JJ and the newbie found the phone."

It had been bad enough viewing it on the small device. Seeing the image blown up to larger than life-sized made JJ cringe.

Rossi blew air between his lips.

"If the Kid saw that, he would have gone running."

"But JJ thinks it's a fake," said Garcia.

All eyes turned toward the blonde profiler, who took it as a prompt to explain.

"I don't think the injuries are faked, although I suppose they could be. But the location...do you see the lettering on that wall behind her? Over the archway?"

Luke read it aloud. "Las Vegas Memorial. So what? She _should_ be at a hospital, with injuries like that."

"But Diana Reid is _not_ in Vegas. Spence moved her to Houston over a month ago, so she could be enrolled in a clinical trial there. It was kind of a big deal, because he was worried about uprooting her from her facility in Vegas. She'd been there for over fifteen years, and he was worried that moving her might heighten her disorientation."

Silence ensued, as each of them considered the implications of what JJ had just told them, as well as the implications of the photo projected on the whiteboard. Diana Reid lay on a gurney, in a location that purported to be a hospital in Las Vegas. Only the skin of her face and forearms was visible. She'd obviously been beaten about the face and head, and there looked to be scratch marks on her arms. Garcia had also provided close up views of her hands. The nails on each were broken, possible indications that she'd fought back at her attacker.

The good news was that she seemed to be conscious. The bad news was the wild, frightened look in her eyes. They'd seen it in victims, before. They couldn't even imagine how they would react to see it in the eyes of someone they loved.

Emily broke the spell.

"All right, let's run the possibilities."

Tara started them off. "Well, there's always the obvious. That she _is_ in Las Vegas…somehow….and that she's been hurt. Reid might have just gone to see her and forgotten his phone."

Luke added to the supposition. "Maybe he was in too much of a hurry. He could have planned to call in on his way to the airport, but then realized he didn't have his phone with him. If he'd booked the next flight out, he might not have had time to call before the flight left."

"Nuh-uh, Newbie," clucked Garcia. "I checked every airline that flies into or out of Las Vegas. No Spencer Reid booked on any of them."

Rossi offered a thought. "If Reid's mother is in Vegas, we need to figure out how she got there. Because she was definitely in Houston as of a few weeks ago."

Emily looked across the table. "JJ?"

The blonde profiler shrugged. "As far as I know, she was still there. I think he would have told me if he'd moved her again."

Garcia ventured a question. "What if she'd been getting better? What if she'd gotten well enough that she'd decided on her own to go back to Vegas? I mean, Boy Wonder might not have known, right? Like he didn't know when she went on that trip to the Grand Canyon."

"She wasn't getting better, Pen," said JJ. "She was confused, and Spence thought she was regressing. He thought she might have been getting the placebo, instead of the drug."

"What do you mean? I thought she was in a clinical trial. Weren't they trying a new drug on her?"

Tara explained. "That's not what a clinical trial means, Penelope. In order to know if the drug is working, half the people enrolled in the trial get it, and the other half don't. They get a placebo, instead. Then they compare how each half is doing."

"Are you kidding me? So my not-so-junior GI man might have moved his mother for no reason? That's terrible! It's unfair! It's…."

"It's life, my dear," came from the experienced voice of David Rossi. "He knew it going in. He just hoped she'd be in the intervention arm of the study. And we don't know that she's not. Her not getting better doesn't mean she's not getting the drug. She might be getting it, but it's having no effect."

Prentiss brought them back to focus on the case once again.

"So, we'll add Diana Reid's study status, as well as her mental status, to the list of things we don't know. What else?"

As much as she hated putting it into words, JJ knew she had to.

"It's possible Spence _didn't_ leave of his own accord. As Luke said, we saw no sign of a struggle, and he did take his bag with him. But it's possible he left the phone behind on purpose, as some kind of message to us."

Emily nodded, grimly. She knew they had to consider all of the possibilities, including those most dire.

"Garcia, have you looked through the rest of his phone? Any other images? Messages that seemed odd?"

"Wait a minute.." Rossi interrupted before the tech analyst could respond. He directed his gaze toward JJ..."You said the image was visible as soon as you turned on the phone, right?"

"Right."

Tara didn't understand. "Are you saying that makes it more likely that the image is a message to us?"

But Emily knew where he was going. "It might. If he wanted to be sure someone saw it, he'd have made sure it came up as soon as the phone was touched. That means he would have left it unlocked. Unless…" Looking at JJ again…."Did you unlock it?" If anyone beside Garcia might know the code to Reid's phone, it would be JJ.

"I don't….." She had to think. She _did_ know his code, she'd opened his phone for him a zillion times during the the hours they'd worked together. Had she done it reflexively, this morning, in his apartment? Seconds later, all JJ could do was to shake her head. "I don't think so. But I can't be sure. It's just a natural reaction, you know?"

Both women turned to Luke Alvez, but he shook his head as well. "I wasn't paying attention to that, sorry."

"All right. Garcia?" Emily directed her to continue. Garcia rose, her remote once again aimed at the whiteboard. She flashed the photos she'd found as she described them.

"Okay, so I did go through the rest of his phone. He doesn't exactly have a ton of photos on there. Apart from that terrible picture of his mom, he's got a couple of others of her, mostly from when she was younger, I think. And, oh…..there's one of her with Baby Reid, from when he was maybe only four or five…..look at what a cutie he was!"

"Penelope…." Past experience had taught Prentiss to keep her analyst on a short leash.

"Right. So, there's a couple of the boys…" Smiling toward JJ, but noting the confused look on the face of Luke Alvez. "The _boys_ …. JJ's boys. Henry and Michael are his godsons. Mine too!"

Alvez brows went up. He'd gathered that there were some deep friendships among the team members….and he could see how that could happen, considering the types of shared experiences that occurred on an almost daily basis….but he'd not known just how deeply rooted some of those relationships were.

_Family deep. Now I understand why JJ reacted as she did this morning._

Garcia went on with her review of Reid's phone. "He's got a couple of these photos of some kids around a chess board…oh, and that one of all of us at JJ's wedding! And here we are at my Baby Boy's wedding…..and then with Hank…."

"Who is Hank?" asked Luke.

Garcia sucked her teeth. "He's just the most precious baby in the world, because Morgan and Savannah went through so much when he was born! And he's named after Reid."

Alvez made a disbelieving face. "'Hank' is named after 'Reid'?"

"Hank _Spencer_ Morgan. He's the second baby named after our Boy Genius."

This time, both Tara and Luke were confused, until JJ explained.

"Spencer Johnson. Spence delivered him, when one of our victims went into labor and there wasn't time to get her to the hospital."

Tara smiled. "Why am I not surprised?"

Emily motioned for Garcia to continue.

"There was only one more photo."

Hitting the remote once again, this time offering no narrative. JJ and Rossi recognized the face immediately, even though they'd only 'met' the person once, for a few seconds. Emily Prentiss had seen this photo before, in a sad communication from Garcia. It had been extracted from a journal article.

"Who is that?" asked Tara Lewis.

Rossi heaved a great sigh. "That's Maeve Donovan. She was killed, a couple of years ago. Before that, she and Spencer…" searching for just the right words, "…..had a relationship."

"Killed, as in murdered?" asked Luke.

"Right in front of him. Right in front of the whole team, really." JJ's voice was infused with that remnant of sadness, tinged with anger, that she felt whenever she thought about the ordeal her best friend had been through.

Luke whistled between his teeth. "Wow. I can't even imagine…."

"Believe me, you don't want to try." JJ again.

The revelation made Tara wonder. "Not to muddy the waters further, but….. how has he handled it? I certainly never picked up on anything, but he must have been traumatized. Does he have flashbacks? Might he be reacting, now?"

"You mean, 'now', as in 'now that he's seen the photo of his mother'?" asked their unit chief.

Tara explained. "Yes. PTSD doesn't have to have a specific trigger to result in a flashback, but they certainly occur more frequently afterward. It's hard to tell, sometimes, because the triggers can be so subtle….a sound, a smell, even the weather. But this…..a photo of someone else he loves, possibly in mortal danger…..it might very well have triggered him."

Emily's eyes were closed as she shook her head.

"All right. I guess we'll have to add that to the list of things we don't know."

Rossi started counting on his fingers. "All right, so we don't know if he left on his own, or was taken. We don't know if he meant for us to see that photo of his mother, or if it just happened to be on his screen, when he dropped the phone to go to her rescue. We don't know if he's just out there, somewhere, wandering, in some sort of hellish flashback. We don't know if Diana Reid is really at Las Vegas Memorial, or if the photo was somehow staged. We don't even know for certain if she's still in Houston or has been moved back to Las Vegas."

He had to move to his other hand, to continue the count.

"We don't know for certain if he's traveling. If he is, we don't know how. We don't even know if he's about to walk into the BAU and wonder why no one is at their desks."

Garcia raised her hand. "I can answer that one. I've got our surveillance camera up on my laptop. Junior GI man isn't at his desk, and no one is in the coffee bay, either."

Emily tried to encourage them. "Okay. Let's keep with that. What else _do_ we know?"

JJ responded. "We know that Spence is never late, and that he's too responsible to just take off without calling in. So maybe he _is_ still in flight, and maybe we'll hear from him as soon as he lands."

Alvez continued. "We know there were no signs of a struggle, no evidence of anyone having been hurt, in his apartment. Although…"

Prentiss nodded. "If we don't hear from him by this afternoon, we'll have a crime scene team go through his place with a fine-toothed comb."

She saw JJ wince at the the idea, and understood. No one valued…and guarded….his privacy more than Spencer Reid. But it couldn't be helped. She explained it.

"It's possible something did happen, and they've cleaned up after themselves."

Rossi pushed back in his seat. "I thought we were trying to look at what we do know. Seems like we're back to what we don't."

"That's because the only thing we know for certain is that Spence wouldn't do this. Not if he didn't have to," said JJ. "Well, that…..and that he loves his mother. He'd do whatever was necessary, to save her."


	3. Chapter 3

**Missing**

**Chapter 3**

They had Garcia contact the Anderson Clinic in Houston first. She'd offered to hack into the records, but been denied permission. Prentiss hadn't the same currency of experience in her role of unit chief as had her predecessor.

"Do it through proper channels for now, Garcia. I think I should probably keep this job for a while longer….at least through this."

"Yes, ma'am." Disappointment evident in her tone, even as she understood the situation. She'd become spoiled under Aaron Hotchner, as he'd often been open to her overriding protocol.

_But, then, I guess, at some point, he'd decided he no longer had anything to lose._

Tara Lewis and Luke Alvez were too new to the team to realize the change in approach. But JJ and Rossi realized it immediately.

As much as she understood, and even sympathized, JJ couldn't help but feel frustrated. She was too much of a professional to vent publicly. But she wasn't above trading on her friendship with her new unit chief.

Once the team broke to separate tasks, she made her way over to Prentiss' office and, as she'd already done once today, knocked softly on the jamb of the open door. That got the attention of the brunette behind the desk, busy scribbling notes on a pad.

JJ met the inquiring eyes firmly. "Em, it's _Spence_."

Staring at her friend, her mouth opening on a reply and then closing again, Emily Prentiss slowly put down her pen. After a moment of sorting herself, she replied.

"We'll do what we have to do, if and when we have to do it. But we both know that I'm here mostly at Hotch's bidding. We also both know that he had his share of enemies within the Bureau, who would like nothing better than to erase him from our institutional memory. They'll accomplish that, in part, by getting rid of me, and maybe making the team over entirely. That means that I'm under scrutiny all the time. Every decision is being examined, and maybe questioned. I can't give them fodder for this, JJ. If _I'm_ gone, what will become of the team? More immediately, do you think _anyone_ else would even be looking for an agent who was late to work?"

JJ deflated at her words. "No. No, you're right. I guess….. I just hate this, Em. Not the fact that you're back, never that!" She was quick to amend. "I just….I guess I'm not so good at change, either. Losing Morgan, and then Hotch, even if for different reasons…. And now Spence is going through something. I mean, even before today. His life is changing, one way or another."

Emily gave her old friend a small smile. "I don't seem to recall you having a husband and two kids when I started with the team."

JJ returned the look. "Touche. Everything does change. I guess I just don't like the kind of change that happens when we don't want it to. But mostly, right now, I'm worried that going by the book may cost us the chance to find Spence."

"Is Garcia getting pushback?"

"The only thing they'll give her, without a release or a subpoena, is a 'yes' or 'no' on Diana's name and birthdate. So Anderson acknowledged she'd been admitted as a patient there, but wouldn't give any other information. Las Vegas Memorial says she's been there before, but has no current record of her being admitted. However, they've had thirty-seven 'Jane Doe' admissions in the past two weeks."

"Thirty-seven?!"

"That's what Pen said. To which they replied, 'Honey, it's Vegas.'"

"Hmph! I guess. Did she try to narrow it down?"

"Three of them are probably in the right age group. All three were admitted in the past two days."

Emily considered it. "We only know when that photo was sent, not when it was taken. But it could fit the timeline, if it was taken with the purpose of luring Reid there."

"They would only tell Garcia that one of the women had been released, and the other two were still inpatients. Well, that, and that they were in 'fair condition'. No word on what's wrong with them. We don't even know if they were admitted for injury or illness."

The BAU unit chief started pulling at her cuticles, until a look from JJ stopped her. Then she picked up her pen and started tapping it against her wrist, the better to think with. JJ waited her out.

Moments later, Emily had decided.

"Have Garcia continue looking for Reid. He's gone after his mother, no doubt. The questions are 'how' and 'where'. I think we're going to have to go with a split team on this one."

It had happened only a handful of times, going back to when Gideon was with them. But, this time, it would be happening with two unseasoned members. Which helped Prentiss decide how they would split.

"I'll stay with Lewis and Alvez. That will put you and Rossi together."

JJ knew she might be presuming too much on their friendship, but she had a strong feeling about this.

"Can I ask that Rossi and I be sent to Houston?"

"You think…"

"I can't be sure. But I've spent enough time with Spence to think that's where he'll have gone."

"So, you don't think his mother is in Las Vegas?"

"I don't know where Diana is. I just think I know where Spence would head."

_If he's heading anywhere at all. If he hasn't been taken himself._

* * *

"Okay, so say I'm a genius. Well, a non-techie genius. How would I travel undetected?"

Penelope Garcia spent so much time alone in her lair, she'd gotten into the habit of doing her thinking….. _all_ of her thinking…..aloud. Sometimes she wondered if she was comforted by the sound of her own voice. Which might have explained why she was so completely startled when she heard the sound of _another_ voice.

"Hey, Baby Girl! Look who I've brought to visit…..your _new_ Baby Boy!"

Garcia clutched at her chest as she twirled in her chair.

"Derek Morgan, you just about took the life out of me! Sneaking up on someone like that!" She rose when she saw the bundle in those familiar arms. "But, oh…..my sweet BBJ! Come here to your Auntie Penelope!" Holding her own arms outstretched.

"BBJ?" Depositing his bundle into the waiting hands.

"Baby Boy Junior, of course."

"Of course." Morgan smiled as he leaned over his infant son to buss Garcia on the cheek.

"Are they on a case? The bullpen looked empty."

"Um….sort of."

"'Sort of' a case? Baby Girl, I haven't been gone that long. I don't remember us ever having 'sort of' a case."

Garcia was torn between spilling the beans to the man who loved Spencer Reid like a brother, and protecting that man from what she was certain would be an impulsive move to drop everything and rush to help, putting his current employment in jeopardy. So she deflected.

"How is it that I'm graced with the pleasure of a visit from my two favorite men in the world? Well, along with Henry and Michael, of course. And Reid. And Sam. And…."

Morgan laughed. "Some things never change. I'm off for a few days because the day care is being renovated, and there were a few shifts Savannah couldn't swap out, so Daddy duty called. But then my mom decided she needed a bonding visit with Hank here….well, she wants to do some more bonding with Savannah, too….so I'm about to be out in the cold, once Grandma arrives."

Garcia tsk-tsked. "Poor Baby Boy."

"I'll survive. And don't think I didn't notice what you just tried to do there, Mama. I may not be profiling anymore, but I can still tell when you're trying to get by me. Come on, give." Motioning with his fingers.

Garcia made a few faces at the infant in her arms while she considered. Then…

"Oh, okay. Well, for starters, you were wrong when you said we've never had a 'sort of' case. We've had a few, remember?"

The hint jiggled something in his memory. "Only when…is it someone on the team?"

She could tell by his tone that he was already mentally gearing up for action. What she couldn't tell, given his current circumstances, his nature, and the facts of the 'case', was whether that was a good thing.

_Only one way to find out._

So she told him. "It's Reid. Our Baby Genius has gone missing."

"What?! When? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Shh! You'll upset Hank, just when I've rocked him to sleep."

Morgan brought it down to a whisper as he retrieved the car seat from the hallway, and, taking his son gently from Garcia, laid the sleeping infant down in the seat. Then he took Garcia by the elbow and brought her to the other side of the room.

"What happened to Reid?"

Garcia brought him up to speed on the events of the day, beginning with the concern at Reid's late arrival to work, through the disturbing photo of Diana and the many questions about its origin, veracity and location. She finished by telling him about the split team, traveling to both Houston and Las Vegas.

The tech analyst marveled at the succession of emotions showing themselves on the face of her BFF. Concern, through anger and frustration, to a fierce determination.

"And we still have no idea where Reid is?"

"JJ's convinced he's gone to Houston, but we don't know how. His name hasn't shown up on a single flight manifest, not to Las Vegas, and not to Houston."

"And Emily? What does she say?"

"She's gone with the newbie and Tara to Vegas. It's possible that Mrs. Reid actually _was_ admitted to the hospital there, so they need to check that out. She might even still be there."

"Newbie?"

Garcia blushed, but only barely "Luke Alvez. He came on board when you left."

"That was months ago. What's with the 'newbie' thing?"

Garcia huffed away from him and back to her faithful electronic companions.

"Derek Morgan, I will never let another muscleman get that close to me again. Nope, no way! Newbie's just a guy...with a dog…a… very…. cute…..dog."

Morgan followed her over to the computer. "Are you saying you refuse to get to know him because of me?" Tapping his own chest.

"No! Nothing like that! I just….."

Garcia fell into a long stare, one long enough for her to relive a thousand of the moments they'd shared. Long enough to remember how much she'd looked forward to their daily banter, and how much she'd ached for it when it had gone. Long enough to remember how she'd been determined not to let him know how much it was hurting her, determined not to be a burden to him. Long enough to remember how she'd promised herself she wouldn't try to influence his decision to leave.

All of that, and more, came back to her, in the moment. And she dug deep and pulled out her trademark shield of humor.

"No, it's all on him. You know how I am, Derek. I don't like a newbie to get a swelled head. So I'm making him work for his."

Morgan smiled to himself, even as he saw right through her.

_Another thing that never changes._

He leaned down and planted a kiss at her temple.

"You know you'll always be my Baby Girl. And I better not hear you calling anyone else your Baby Boy."

She smiled, placated. "Perish the thought. Now, are you ready to help me find my Baby Genius?"

Morgan leaned over her, peering at her screen as she typed, and showed him.

"All right, yeah, I believe you. No Spencer Reid on any flights."

"And no phone calls from his land line, to make a reservation, and none from his cell, obviously. It doesn't even look like he called a cab to bring him to an airport, or a bus station."

"He can take the Metro to Union Station, can't he?"

"I already checked Amtrak, and all of the major bus lines. No Spencer Reid."

"What about a pay phone?"

"Who uses…oh! Right! He used every pay phone in a five mile radius. I guess I can try…." Fingers flying.

"Or what about another name?"

"Like what? And how would he get an ID? Don't you need that for pretty much everything these days?"

Morgan chuckled. "Baby Girl, don't you know how easy it is to make a fake ID? Sure, they've made them 'smart'…..but they haven't made the people screening them any smarter, have they?"

"Okay, Smarty Pants. What name should I look under?"

"Why don't you just run the manifest for the flights into Houston and Vegas? Then queue up the manifests from Amtrak."

Garcia did as instructed, and the two ran the lists on her screen. No last name 'Reid', none 'Spencer'. No first names, either. Then Morgan spotted something.

"Ha! My man!"

"What? What do you see?"

Morgan pointed at the screen. "There. 'Hank Johnson.' What are the odds?"

"Oh, my God. His namesakes. You've got him, Derek!"

"I may only _think_ I've got him. Was that list from a flight, or Amtrak? And where was it going, Vegas or Houston? We've got to call Prentiss."


	4. Chapter 4

**Missing**

**Chapter 4**

"Hank Johnson? I don't know, PG. Johnson's a pretty common name. And considering it was a flight to Houston, I'm guessing 'Hank' is right up there, too."

Emily Prentiss wasn't about to change their strategy based on something so flimsy.

"I know," said Garcia. "But it's all we could come up with. And Derek noticed it right away."

"Derek? Derek Morgan?"

"Hello, Princess," came the deep, oh-so-familiar voice, as Morgan stepped into the camera's line of sight.

"Morgan! What are you doing there? And why is it that you've only come to visit when I'm away?"

"It's not intentional, I can promise you that. But it's a little busy overseeing intelligence-sharing between law enforcement and the Bureau."

"Ha! I expect it's a little territorial, if It's anything like Interpol and…..well, and pretty much anybody."

"Yep. But my little man here and I found ourselves with a little unexpected free time, and I thought I'd pop in on some old friends."

His other old friends chimed in as Rossi, JJ and Tara called out their greetings. Then Morgan heard an unfamiliar voice.

"Agent Morgan, this is Luke Alvez. I've heard a lot about you. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Morgan looked with interest as Garcia made a face, but he returned the greeting in kind.

"Likewise. You'll love working with these guys."

"Already do."

Emily spoke up again. "So, Garcia filled you in. You know Reid as well as anybody. Any thoughts?"

"Well, for starters, I think it's a sure thing he's headed off after his mom, under his own steam. If they were planning to just take him, why send the photo? No, I think someone was trying to lure him."

"But where?" asked JJ. "The photograph indicates that she's in Las Vegas, when the last we knew, Spence had moved her to Houston, so she could be in a new study. So the question is….is she actually in Vegas, or did they just want to make it look like she was?"

Morgan thought for a few seconds before responding.

"I guess that depends, mostly on how cunning the person is who's after Reid. Obviously, they were trying to lure him. It would be straightforward enough to show where she was, and assume he'd come after her."

"But why move her?" asked Rossi. "Why not just lure Reid to Houston?"

"Well…" started Tara Lewis, catching on to where Morgan was going. "….what if our unsub _is_ cunning? What if that's what he takes pride in…playing the game?"

Rossi followed her reasoning. "You're making a case for Mr. Scratch."

All of them, including Morgan, were aware of how intricately the escaped murderer had conned Lewis and her family.

"Maybe he's not done going after the team," she asserted.

The discussion gave Emily Prentiss pause. Maybe she would need to rethink her initial strategy...and there was still time to do so. They hadn't arrived to Houston yet. She _could_ keep the whole team on the ground there. _Or_ she could drop off JJ and Rossi, and bring Tara and Luke with her to Vegas, as originally planned. She began to work it through aloud.

"If it's Mr. Scratch, we have to think as he would….we have to get inside his head."

Which, they all knew, was a very dysfunctional place to be.

"But we also need to be inside _Reid's_ head. We need to see the photograph, and the situation, as _he_ would see it. Because that will tell us how he reacted. And it will tell us where he is."

There ensued a long silence, broken by David Rossi.

"All right, I'll start. What reason would Mr. Scratch have for moving Diana Reid back to Las Vegas? Isn't it more likely he wanted to see what Reid would do if Reid _thought_ he'd moved her?"

"But," said JJ, "maybe Mr. Scratch knew Spence would see through it. Maybe he was just testing him. You know, genius versus genius."

Tara probed further. "So, you're saying that you think Mr. Scratch didn't move Mrs. Reid, but wanted to watch Reid figure it out? I don't know. What if he wanted Reid to second guess himself, look at it as a ruse, and go to Houston, all the while his mother has been brought back to Vegas?"

JJ closed her eyes in frustration. Tara Lewis might be right. Reid might be in Houston. And Diana might be in Vegas. Or any permutation thereof. Leaving a few additional questions.

"Maybe what we _should_ be asking is: Where is Mr. Scratch? And who is he really after?"

* * *

In the end, Prentiss felt she had no choice but to divide her team. They touched down outside Houston, discharging JJ and Rossi before heading off to Las Vegas.

"Garcia is looking at manifests for some of the smaller airports," she told them. "Maybe Reid thought it would be easier to get past security with a fake ID if he traveled on a smaller airline. But she's still looking for 'Hank Johnson' to resurface somewhere in the area."

The tech analyst had been unable to find any prior history with that particular ID. Which didn't sit well with JJ.

"What if Mr. Scratch booked that flight? What if _he_ was 'Hank Johnson'? What if that was just a ruse to throw us off? We already know he can fake an ID. He did it to Spence once before."

Prentiss nodded. "I know. So, if we find a sign of Reid at another airport, we'll know 'Hank Johnson' is Mr. Scratch."

"And if we don't?" asked Rossi.

"Then we'll have to keep our options open. But, even if Reid traveled as Hank Johnson, it's likely he'll interact with the Anderson Clinic as Spencer Reid. They already know him there, under that name. So.."

Rossi nodded, understanding. "So that's where we'll start. What will the rest of you do, when you get to Vegas?"

"We'll go to Las Vegas Memorial and see if we can convince them to tell us if they've had….or still have…Diana Reid."

* * *

It wasn't at all unusual for Rossi to work in the field with Jennifer Jareau. But it _was_ unusual to have such an extended silence between them. The only other time he could remember her being so lost in her thoughts was when they'd been in Texas, and Reid had been shot, and fighting for his life in surgery. Rossi wondered if a similar worry was troubling his companion now.

"Penny for your thoughts."

She startled. "Hmm?"

"You were off somewhere inside your head. I was just wondering if you cared to share."

JJ gave an apologetic smile.

"I'm just worried, I guess. If this is Mr. Scratch….. When I think about what he did to Hotch…..and then to Tara… I mean, think of it. Hotch….well, we don't know exactly what he went through. But I think we both know that there was something more than he told us. He just wasn't quite himself after that."

"I _wish_ I knew more than you do about it, my friend, but I don't. Whatever happened to Hotch, he took with him into witness protection."

Rossi's words were tinged with regret.

"That's just it. He had to leave the FBI. But at least didn't have to go alone. At least he has Jack."

The boy had been the reason for their former unit chief's decision, after all.

"He does."

"And then…..look at what he did to the whole Lewis family. My God, that was torture for Tara. But at least she got her brother back, at the end."

"You're not trying to say that Mr. Scratch actually accomplished some good…"

"No! No, of course not. Tara's brother would have died because of Mr. Scratch if Reid hadn't figured out the mechanisms of that trap. No. But I am saying that his mother is the only family Spence has. If Mr. Scratch takes her from him…..what's left for him? Or even if we find her? What happens then? Spence won't leave her. But how do you put someone with dementia into witness protection? And what if... what if she dies? Does that leave Spence in witness protection alone, all by himself, forever?"

Rossi opened his mouth to reply, but JJ hadn't finished.

"And what if Mr. Scratch has done something to her? What if he's killed her? I can't imagine Spence having to live the rest of his life knowing he couldn't save her, not just from her illnesses, but from a psychopath! I just….I don't know if he can come back from something like that."

Her emotion draining, she added, much more quietly, "I don't know if he would want to."

She didn't have to explain it to Rossi. Reid had been dealt several major losses in the past few years, and Rossi had done his best to help the young man deal with his grief. But he knew that each loss carried forward to the next, rendering the burden ever heavier. JJ was right. Reid might eventually reach his limit.

Rossi offered his colleague the only wisdom he had.

"Well, why don't we see to it that he doesn't have to?"

* * *

The remaining three profilers were headed directly from the airport to Las Vegas Memorial. As Luke drove them, Emily had just finished talking with JJ and was now on the phone with Garcia.

"That's right. Four days ago. They've got cameras inside and out, mostly to keep an eye on the patients. See if you can hack the feeds."

Assuming that particular kind of breech of protocol might go undetected. But she also knew to tread more lightly elsewhere.

"We'll want to get access to her medical records as well, but I think we'll need to go through channels for that."

"Channels?" The tech analyst sounded like she was unfamiliar with the concept.

"We should be able to get a subpoena for them, if we can prove that the 'Spencer Reid' who signed his mother out of Anderson four days ago wasn't really Spencer Reid."


	5. Chapter 5

**Missing**

**Chapter 5**

Flashing their FBI badges at the information desk had gotten JJ and Rossi quickly ushered to the office of the hospital CEO. Ron Remler wasn't a physician, but he was able to diagnose trouble at a glance.

"Well, I must say, I'm quite surprised by your visit, Agents. I don't think we've ever hosted the FBI here before. And, the few times we've had the police come by, they've always called first."

The pointed comment wasn't lost on either of the profilers. Rossi took the alpha male lead on responding.

"We're an elite unit, called in from DC. We follow the information where it leads us, when it leads us there. Time isn't usually a luxury we enjoy."

"I see. Well, what can I do for you?"

JJ explained that they were there to see a patient…who was apparently missing.

"She's conserved, because of her mental health. And the person who absconded with her had no legal right to do so."

Remler seemed to take offense at the 'absconded'.

"I can assure you, Agent Jareau, that we take patient safety very seriously here at the MD Anderson Cancer Center."

Which reminded Rossi to ask. "We've been wondering about that. What would an Alzheimer's patient be doing at a cancer center? As far as her family knows, she doesn't have cancer."

That seemed to stump the hospital administrator, who quickly called for backup. After thirteen awkward minutes, they were joined by Dr. Mitchell Solomon, who was leading the clinical study into which Diana Reid had been enrolled. Remler made the introductions, and then JJ explained why the FBI was there.

Both profilers read the surprised look on the face of Dr. Solomon as genuine. But before the physician could ask any questions, the hospital administrator pushed him on the question of why Diana had been there in the first place.

"They asked why someone who doesn't have cancer would be a patient here."

"Ah," said Dr. Solomon. "Well, as you obviously know, MD Anderson Cancer Center focuses mainly on, well….cancer. That is still our primary clinical activity. My own specialty focus is on neuro-oncology, or tumors occurring within the nervous system."

The profilers nodded, and Remler sank back in his chair, obviously relieved. From the tone of Dr. Solomon's voice, it appeared that there actually _was_ a legitimate reason the patient in question might have been at his facility.

"As you might imagine," continued Dr. Solomon, "it is quite risky to perform surgery on tumors located within the brain, or on the spinal cord. So we neuro-oncologists have had to get creative in treating our tumors. We've led the way in targeted therapies, some injected directly into the tumors, some tagged to draw the attention of the patient's immune system to the tumor. We've had a fair amount of success over the years, which made us wonder if our methods might work on other diseases of the nervous system."

"Like Alzheimer's?" asked Rossi, a note of skepticism in his voice.

The physician gave him a small smile. "Many people don't realize that Alzheimer's…..many forms of dementia, actually….takes place in specific areas, specific lesions within the brain. It's not an all-neuron problem. So, yes, Alzheimer's seems like a prime candidate for our type of intervention."

JJ understood now, why Reid had been so optimistic about getting his mother enrolled in what sounded like a cutting edge therapy. And why he'd been so dismayed to think that she might not have been in the intervention arm. But she also wanted to get to the real reason they'd come.

"So, Diana Reid was enrolled in your study, correct? But she's been removed from it?"

Solomon shook his head. "That's what I don't understand, Agent Jareau. I didn't approve anyone being dismissed from the study. All such issues are supposed to be brought to me. Why do you think she's gone?"

Rossi was incredulous. "Because we went to the memory-care facility, and they told us her son had taken her out four days ago. Except that, four days ago, her son was in Quantico, working with us."

Remler fell forward in his chair again, as he watched Solomon's brows go up.

"The facility let her go?! But they are under contract with us, with strict instructions about how our study participants are to be monitored."

"Yeah, well, it looks like Orchard Hills needs a refresher course, Doctor," said Rossi. "She's gone."

* * *

Twelve hundred miles away, Emily Prentiss, Luke Alvez and Tara Lewis were meeting with another hospital administrator.

"All we need to know is whether she has been here in the past four days. Surely you can tell us that, without a subpoena." Emily did her best to sound imposing but not obnoxious.

"I'm sorry, Agents. As I told you, I've spoken with our hospital attorney, and he's researched legal precedent. Without solid evidence that a crime has been committed, we are unable to comply with your request. Perhaps, if you could get the patient to sign a release?"

Their training was evident when all three profilers managed to receive the statement without performing a single eyeroll. With a subtle look to Prentiss to ask permission, Tara took it upon herself to respond.

"I'm afraid we are unable to locate the patient, so we are unable to have her sign anything. And, as it happens, she is conserved."

The administrator's face brightened. "Well, that changes everything! You can simply have her conservator sign the release! Really, Agents, we'd like to cooperate with you. We are simply obeying the law. The HIPAA provision subjects us to very imposing fines if we break confidentiality."

All Emily could do was sigh. "That's it then, I'm afraid. We're unable to locate Mrs. Reid's next of kin at the moment, and he is her conservator."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I do sincerely wish we could help, but.."

Emily raised a hand to stop her. "But you can't. Yes, we heard you."

Luke had a thought. "Would it be all right if we just looked around a little bit? Can we see the Emergency Department, maybe?"

The administrator stroked her chin. "I don't know…"

But Tara did. "I'm sure you've had other government representatives tour the facility, haven't you? From DPH, maybe? The CDC? Even the DEA?"

The administrator smiled, relieved to find a way to cooperate. She might have been afraid of a HIPAA violation, but she was equally afraid of a failure to assist the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

"Yes, of course we have. All right, let me get you some visitor badges, and I'll take you around myself. You do understand that we'll have to keep a discrete distance from any direct patient care activities."

In unison, they responded. "Of course."

Ten minutes later, they followed the hospital VP through hallways and past nursing stations, stopping at what appeared to be a locked ward.

"I'm afraid I can't let you in, but I can't stop you from looking through the window."

Luke nodded his appreciation, and did as suggested.

"Not a lot of activity, as far as I can see. But no one who looks like Diana Reid."

They'd posited that Diana's mental state would have become obvious, and led to her seclusion on the psychiatry ward. But there was another possibility.

"Do you have a trauma ward, too?" asked Emily. "Wouldn't she have been sent there, if her injuries were severe enough?"

She would have, agreed the administrator. And so, they followed the hospital VP down a few more hallways, and walked down the corridor where those being treated for significant trauma were housed. All three profilers did their best to look into each room as they passed by. Again, there was no sign of Diana Reid.

"I know you said she wouldn't still be held there, but couldn't we just see your Emergency Department?" asked Prentiss.

Diana might not have been there any longer. Or ever. But there was something else they needed to look for.

The VP acquiesced, and brought them all to the first floor of the hospital, into a large space bustling with activity. She put her hands out and waved in demonstration.

"This is it. If she came to us, she came through here."

The place was set up largely in the round, with cubicles surrounding a central station, and several large rooms, marked Trauma 1 and Trauma 2, off to the right side. Nurses, orderlies and doctors all moved about with purpose. There seemed to be a patient in each cubicle, and several more on gurneys in the hallway.

Beyond the semicircle, nearer to the waiting area, was a triage desk. Tara moved toward it, and turned around.

"All right, I take it the ambulance bay is off the main work area. Am I right?"

A nod from the administrator.

"But if I _walked_ in…..or if someone dropped me off….I would come in _here_ , to the triage desk?"

Another nod.

Tara motioned her colleagues to join her. When they reached the point where she was standing, she turned them around.

There, on the wall above the desk, was a sign: 'LAS VEGAS MEMORIAL'.

It was identical to the one in the photo on Reid's phone.

* * *

Rossi drove as he and JJ followed the neuro-oncologist over to Orchard Hills, the memory-care facility housing the study participants.

"Dr. Solomon seemed genuinely disturbed about the situation," observed Rossi. "If there's a conspiracy here, I doubt he's a part of it."

"Yeah, I ….."

JJ became distracted by the sounding of her phone. Seeing the caller ID, she looked apologetically at her colleague.

"Sorry, it's Will. Something might be up with the boys."

"Go ahead. Can't have anything happen to those little guys."

She smiled her appreciation as she opened the call. "Hey, what's up?"

"Sorry to bother you at work, Cher, but I thought this might be somethin'."

"Something...what?"

"I got a message left for me at the precinct this mornin'. Didn't get it until I came back at the end of my shift. Anyway, it says I should ask my wife to call this phone number, but she has to call from a land line or a pay phone."

"What?! Are you sure? Who was it?"

"That's the thing. All the desk sergeant could say was that it was a male voice. She thought it might be some kind of informant, so she played along."

The blonde profiler's brow furrowed. "Hold on a minute, okay?"

She relayed the information to Rossi. Watching his reaction, she couldn't help but wonder if her face reflected the same concern that flashed across his. When he signaled her to do so, she returned to her phone call.

"Okay, give me the number." She quickly took it down, asked Will to give her love to their boys, and prepared to close the call. But her husband interrupted her.

"Be careful, now. I don't know what's goin' on, but I don't think I like this."

"I'll be careful. And I'm here with the best. No need to worry."

They said their 'I love yous', and ended the call.

Rossi drove on in silence for a few blocks, visibly lost in thought. JJ chanced interrupting the process to make a suggestion.

"If you see a pay phone, let's use it, okay? We can call from Orchard Hills, but I'm not sure I want to trust anyone there."

"Agreed. This smacks of Mr. Scratch, playing games with us, making us jump through hoops. And I don't like jumping through hoops."

He'd had enough of Mr. Scratch. As gruff as he could sometimes be, Rossi thought of the BAU as his family. And he was tired of Mr. Scratch messing with his family.

JJ appreciated the sentiment, and shared it. But she also had another thought.

"Actually, it kind of reminds me of when Spence was communicating with Maeve. They always used pay phones, because it was harder to track them that way. Garcia even said it was the best way to hide in plain sight…or sound, I guess."

"Well, we'll find out, soon enough. I see one over there, at the gas station."

Rossi pulled in, but stopped JJ before she could get out of the vehicle.

"They may be hard to trace, but they're not impossible. We'll get the number and give it to Garcia. She can try to track it back to wherever we're connecting to."

"Sounds good." JJ got Garcia on the phone, and explained the situation, as both of them exited the SUV.

They approached the phone together, Rossi surveilling the periphery as JJ called the number to Garcia. As much as he hated Peter Lewis, he had to grudgingly respect the man's genius. It would not have been beyond Mr. Scratch to have been watching them, calculating the likelihood of them finding this particular pay phone, and lying in wait for them to accomplish his ambush, while they were away from the protection of their vehicle.

Once they knew Garcia was prepared to monitor the line, JJ put in several coins and punched the numbers instructed. She waited nervously as the phone on the other end rang once…..twice…..three times….and...

"Hello?" Said the voice on the other end.

JJ's eyes blew wide.

"Spence?!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Missing**

**Chapter 6**

"Spence?!" At once relieved to hear his voice and concerned about the convoluted plan that had made it happen, JJ peppered him with questions. "Are you all right? Where are you? Why didn't you call?"

"I'm fine. I'm in Houston. And I couldn't call your cell. He had my phone number, I had to assume he had the rest of the team's as well."

_I knew it! I knew he'd be here,_ she thought. Then she processed the rest of what Reid had said.

"He?" Dreading his answer, even though she already knew what he would say.

"Peter Lewis. Mr. Scratch. I think he's impersonating me, and I think he's done something to my mother!"

His voice had been so steady, up until that last phrase. JJ envisioned him fighting for control, and wished she could reach through the phone.

"Rossi is here with me. We're in Houston, too. When you didn't show up to work, we got worried, and we went to your apartment. I found your phone. Did you leave it behind on purpose?"

He leapt right past the answer to that. "Did you see the photo?"

"Yes. Spence, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry she's in the middle of this."

The line was silent for a few seconds, before he replied.

"She's been through enough, far more than any one person deserves. And now my job is putting her through more."

JJ heard the familiar tone of guilt and knew she needed to move his mind away from it.

"It's Peter Lewis doing it, not you. You didn't bring this on your mom any more than Hotch brought it on himself. And, to tell you the truth, I'm pretty damn tired of this guy."

She could almost hear him smile at her too-obvious attempt at diversion, in spite of the situation.

"How did you know to come to Houston? The photograph placed her in Las Vegas Memorial. It's a fake, by the way."

Rossi watched as JJ's eyes widened, and motioned to ask what was going on.

"Spence, let me fill Rossi in and then I'll tell you."

She did, and nodded as Rossi's brows went up at the last piece of information.

"Okay, I'm back. We split the team. Emily is in Vegas with Luke and Tara, Rossi and I are in Houston. I thought this was where you would be."

"Why? How?"

"I don't know how, I just knew. But…..it's a fake? How do you know?"

"Because she always wears her hair parted on the left. In the photo, it's on the right. But the print for 'Las Vegas Memorial' isn't reversed, only Mom is. He obviously edited her in."

JJ conveyed the information to Rossi, and then had to ask about the other remarkable thing in the photograph.

"Do you think the bruises are fake, too?"

_Please say yes. I don't want to think of that poor woman being beaten._

Dread threaded through Reid's brief answer. "I don't know."

_I'm so sorry, Spence._

JJ heaved a determined breath. "All right, then. Are we at least agreed that she's not in Las Vegas?"

"I honestly don't know that, and it's why I'm trying to fly below the radar. If it's Peter Lewis….Mr. Scratch….anything can be true. I can't tell if he thinks I'll fall for his photoshopping, or if he realizes I'd figure it out. I can't be sure of anything, except that I don't want him to know where I am."

Anxiety built inside her as JJ absorbed Reid's words and realized the truth of them.

_But you can't go it alone, my friend._

"Spence, where can we meet you? I can call Garcia from here and see if she can get us some encrypted phones to use. I'll see if she can reach Emily on a landline to fill her in, as well."

He gave her the address of a restaurant on the outskirts of the city, about forty minutes' drive away.

"All right. I'll call Emily and Garcia, and we'll see you there within the hour."

"Okay…..thanks." Sounding relieved, and sad, and worried, all at once.

"Spence? Hang in there. We'll find her."

* * *

Fifty minutes later, the unmarked SUV pulled into a small strip mall, home to a discount grocery store, a laundromat, a check-cashing facility, and the restaurant in question.

Rossi groaned as he got out of the vehicle. "Oh, good, 'all you can eat buffet'. Except I'll bet none if it is edible."

JJ hurried a bit ahead of her colleague, anxious to get to Reid. Entering, they found a dining area beginning to fill in with the early supper crowd. JJ quickly scanned the room until her eyes were drawn to a familiar clump of hair.

"There," she said to Rossi, as she began to weave her way through the tables. Sensing her arrival, Reid looked up from the legal pad on which he'd been so intensely scribbling. The relief in his eyes was mirrored in JJ's own.

Rossi kept them looking casual as he pulled out a chair along the side of the table from the BAU genius. He waved JJ to the chair, and then took the one across from Reid.

"Glad to see you in one piece, Spencer."

JJ was too busy looking Reid over to speak. She was pretty sure he was wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing yesterday, and his features were shadowed with a day's growth of beard, reminding her that this was still the same day on which he'd failed to report to work. She listened as he answered Rossi.

"Nothing's happened to me. It's my mother I'm worried about. No, actually that's wrong. I'm worried about all of us. And about our families." Looking pointedly across the table toward JJ.

"Emily still has security details in place for us. Although…..did your mom have one, Spence?"

It was unlikely that either Aaron Hotchner or Emily Prentiss would have forgotten about Diana Reid, despite her distance. But it was entirely possible that the FBI had pulled a security detail for someone living in a locked facility, considering the additional person power to be redundant.

Reid confirmed her thinking.

"She did have one, before. Bennington had more open space for its patients, there would have been more access to her on that campus. But here, in the memory-care facility, things are much tighter. Even the outside space is enclosed. It's possible the Bureau didn't think the detail was necessary any longer." He went internal for a beat, shaking his head. "I should have left her alone. She was happy at Bennington. I should have…"

Rossi reached a hand across the table and placed it on the younger man's arm.

"You were trying to do what was best for her. I don't want to hear you blaming yourself for what some Brainiac madman might have done." He withdrew his hand, adding as he did so, "And I emphasize the word 'might'. We're operating on supposition here, remember. Granted, it's i _nformed_ supposition, and we do have a genius among us…..but what we _don't_ have, is facts."

JJ was grateful for Rossi's attempt to abort Reid's detour into self-reprobation. She tried to get him back on course.

"Tell us what happened. Let's start building our facts."

Before Reid could begin, a member of the wait staff came by the table, to instruct them in the use of the buffet. It was clear that they were not to take up a table in the rapidly-filling restaurant if they didn't intend to eat.

"All right, let's get it over with, shall we?" suggested a resigned David Rossi. "Can't wait."

JJ and Reid looked at one another and smiled. Rossi's gourmet palate was about to take a hit.

As they moved through the line, Reid spoke softly to his best friend. "Will got my message, obviously."

"I don't think he realized it was you trying to get through to me. He just thought an informant had left a message with his desk sergeant."

"And he didn't question how an informant would know to reach you through him?"

That didn't quite sit well with Reid. He knew the LaMontagnes were under watch, but that didn't mean they didn't need to be individually vigilant.

"I think he wondered, but he's kind of learned not to ask. Especially from that time…"

That time when she'd been functioning as an operative in a mission that had been buried deep enough to ensure deniability.

"I guess. But, JJ, he's got to be careful. The kids…"

"I know. I'll talk with him. I know his eyes are open when he's with me or the boys, but you're right, he needs to be more aware. I just don't think any of us quite know _how_ to be aware about someone like Peter Lewis. We don't _know_ how to think like him."

Reid answered her as he spooned….something….onto his plate. "Well, I'm going to _have_ to think like him. Pray for a steep learning curve."

Once returned to the table, all three of them pushed the food around on their plates as Reid told the others what had happened.

"I'd been reading, going through some research that I thought might help my mom. And then I guess I fell asleep over it, and woke up to my phone vibrating. I thought it would be Garcia, telling me we had a case. But it was that photograph. No message. Just the photograph."

Rossi wondered. "Why didn't you call one of us? Get Garcia to trace it?"

"I thought about it, but then I realized that he obviously had my number. I thought he'd be listening in, and that h _e_ would know whatever _we_ knew. And I couldn't afford that. My _mother_ couldn't afford that."

JJ heard the heartbreak in his tone, and laid her hand over his in support.

"What did you do, then?"

"I threw some things into a bag, and thank God I had cash in the apartment. So I was able to use it to buy a plane ticket….."

"As Hank Johnson?" asked Rossi.

"Huh?"

JJ and her older companion exchanged looks. "I guess not. But Garcia couldn't find you on any form of transportation headed here or Vegas."

"That's because I flew to El Paso."

The other two threw questioning looks his way, prompting Reid to explain.

"It's half way between Las Vegas and Houston. I figured that he might be able to track my flight, since I had to show a photo ID. But he wouldn't know which direction I'd gone after that. I was able to rent a car with cash, and I drove the rest of the way."

"So….you're not 'Hank Johnson'?" asked JJ.

"No. Why?"

"Well, Morgan and Garcia ran through the flight manifests to Houston and Las Vegas. They obviously didn't see your name, but they did see a 'Hank Johnson' flying to Houston. So…"

"My namesakes. They thought I'd used that name. To tell you the truth, it would have made things easier if I could have, but I only had my own ID."

Rossi nodded. "So that means that 'Hank Johnson' is either truly someone with that name…."

"Or he's Mr. Scratch." Reid finished the thought.

JJ was still disturbed by something. "Why didn't you call me? Or Emily? Anyone? You could have found a pay phone at the airport."

Reid was apologetic. "That was the original plan. But there wasn't time, the plane was leaving. I should have called you when I got to El Paso. But I called Orchard Hills first, and asked for Diana Reid."

"And she wasn't there…," prompted Rossi.

"No, she wasn't. They told me she'd been discharged four days ago into the care of her son, Spencer Reid. After that…I couldn't think straight. All I could think to do was to drive. So I did."

JJ's eyes closed in sorrow at the mental image of her best friend, alone and isolated, frantically driving across the desert in search of his missing mother.

"Ah, Spence."

As appreciative as he was of her sympathy, Reid knew he couldn't allow himself to wallow in it. He needed to move forward.

"Did you talk to Emily and Garcia?"

Rossi explained to Reid that the others would spend at least another day in Vegas, looking for any trace of the missing Diana. They were scheduled to visit Bennington, and the hospital that had sponsored Diana's initial clinical trial. If nothing clicked, they would head to Houston to join the others.

"And Garcia is sending us some encrypted phones via courier. I think Anderson might have lobbied her for a ride on the other jet."

Reid smiled at the thought. "So….we need to have a place to set ourselves up. But he's obviously got his tendrils into the Bureau. I don't think we can work with them…..nor with the police."

The others agreed.

"Yeah, Emily thought so, too," said JJ. "We'll have to make another arrangement."

"You know," said Rossi, stroking his chin, "maybe not. I think we should assume that Mr. Scratch knows the BAU has come to Houston. It will look strange to him if we _don't_ set up at the local FBI office. But he doesn't know that Reid is here, and I agree that it would be a good idea to keep things that way."

"So, what does that mean?" asked JJ. "We put Spence in a hotel or something?"

"More like 'or something'," said Rossi. "Lewis will think to look at hotels and motels. But I think I saw something on the way here that he won't be looking for."

* * *

Two hours later, JJ and Reid bid a reluctant goodnight to their senior agent and friend.

Rossi was upbeat. "I'll swing by the Bureau office and let them know that the rest of the team may be arriving tomorrow. After that, I'll be at the hotel, if you need me. Garcia will know to send the courier to me."

And he would deliver their new, encrypted, phones to them tomorrow. For now, the young couple would rely on the pay phone outside the entrance to the all-night market across the street from their newly-rented apartment.

Rossi had unveiled the plan before they'd caravaned the short distance to where he'd seen the 'FOR RENT" sign in the apartment over a small corner market. They'd reached the landlord, who had been only too happy to take the 'all cash' security and rental payments from the older man providing housing for his daughter and new son-in-law.

"I never, ever, thought I would give business to one of those check-cashing places. But, graft aside, it was pretty convenient," Rossi had remarked. "And besides, if we put this scumbag away, I'm pretty sure I can get the Bureau to reimburse me."

He'd convinced his younger colleagues that renting an apartment, rather than a hotel room, was the best way for Reid to remain in Houston without being visible to Peter Lewis. And JJ had been insistent that Reid not be left alone.

"But that leaves Rossi alone tonight," the young genius had protested.

"Rossi isn't his target right now, Spence. You are. You and your mother. I'm not leaving."

Standing behind her, Rossi had signaled Reid to give up the argument. There weren't too many men who recognized the voice of a determined woman better than David Rossi did. And so, Reid had given in, and the three proceeded with the plan.

Now that Rossi was gone, JJ and Reid looked around their sparsely furnished new apartment.

"I'll take the couch. I usually fall asleep on mine, anyway."

"You'll get no arguments from me. I think I saw some sheets and towels in that little closet. But first…..oh."

She sank dejectedly to the sofa.

"What is it?"

"It's just that I usually call home before the boys go down, to say goodnight. But I can't very well use my cell right now…."

Perversely, Reid felt responsible for her dilemma.

"I'm sorry, JJ. This is my problem, and now it's causing you trouble."

JJ made a point of rolling her eyes at him. "It's not just your problem, Spence. It's true that it's your mother….. _this_ time. But, before you, it was Tara and her brother. And before her, Hotch. Mr. Scratch is a problem that belongs to all of us."

The eye rolling only came out when he was exasperating her, so he knew to stop.

"All right, you're right. But maybe we can solve _this_ problem, tonight. Maybe we can call Garcia from the pay phone downstairs, and she can get us connected to Will. What do you think?"

It was worth a try, so they both headed down after Reid dug through his messenger bag for some change. Once JJ made the connection with Garcia's land line, she explained their situation, and asked to be connected to her family.

"Of course, mon amie. But are you saying that you are standing right next to our missing baby genius?"

JJ laughed into the phone, as she handed the receiver to Reid.

"I think she wants to talk to you."

Reid took the phone and, unprepared, squeaked a "Hello?"

"REID! Oh, my God, you _are_ there! Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Did you hurt him?"

"I'm fine. I haven't found him yet. And we're trying to make sure that he doesn't know I'm looking for him. And, to do that, I think we need to keep even these land line calls short."

"Oh, yeah, right. Sorry. I'll get Will right away."

Reid handed the phone back to JJ and surveyed the neighborhood as his friend spoke with her husband and sons. The population was of mixed ethnicity, and judging by the number of people leaving their homes in work garb, housed a good number of third shifters.

_Early morning and late evening will be easier times to blend in, coming and going._ He made a mental note.

Before she ended the call, JJ handed the receiver to Reid once again. He was puzzled, until he heard a familiar voice.

"Uncle Spence, we got a hundred on my science project! Miss Jenny says I might be a scientist when I grow up!"

JJ smiled as she watched Reid's face light up.

"That was all you, Henry! I only helped with some of the words. Some of those dinosaur names are pretty hard to spell."

"Can we watch the movie when you come home?" He'd heard there was one about 'real dinosaurs'.

"Not yet, Buddy. I think you need a few more years under your belt. I'm a grown-up, and I was scared."

_Not to mention that your mother would kill me if I let you watch 'Jurassic Park' at seven years old. Talk about scared!_

Ever the opportunist, Henry negotiated a different film for the next godfather/godson movie night, and said his goodbyes. JJ said her farewell to Will, and the two headed back upstairs.

"You were great to make that project with him, Spence. I don't think I ever knew how good you were at drawing."

"I'm not. It's just that pretty much everything I draw ends up looking like a dinosaur, so I thought I might as well give it a go. And 'we' got one hundred!"

He blew on his nails and polished them on his shirt.

She laughed. "Sometimes I forget which one of you is the kid. You're both just…"

Her words were cut off by a sharp knock on their apartment door. The two exchanged concerned looks as they simultaneously pulled out their weapons. Standing ready, JJ pulled the door back from behind, as Reid stood in the opening.

"Whoa!" said the knocker, when he saw the weapons pointed at him. "I come in peace. Stand down."

JJ recognized the voice even before the door swung fully. If she hadn't, the look of surprise on Reid's face might have given it away. The two young agents spoke at once.

"Morgan?! What are you doing here?"

"I came bearing gifts. Didn't you guys order some phones?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Missing**

**Chapter 7**

"Remember what I said, Kid. You've gotta have faith. This punk has been pushing our buttons for way too long. It's about time we took the controls away from him. We'll find him, and we'll find your Mom. And then we can all get back to normal."

Morgan was getting ready to leave after a visit that seemed all too brief to his friends. But they all agreed that it wouldn't be wise to have him stay over. They were, after all, in a small town. And that always meant many pairs of eyes with little else to do but spy on newcomers.

Reid appreciated the sentiment, but he also realized the situation of the man expressing it.

"It's not your fight anymore, Morgan. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that you're here. But you left the BAU because you have a family now. And it's important to me that you keep that family safe."

His two colleagues exchanged a look before Morgan responded.

"In case you haven't figured it out yet, little bro…. _you_ are my family, too. Pretty sure we settled that when you agreed to be little Hank's godfather."

JJ chimed in. "You may as well give it up, Spence. You're stuck with us."

Reid looked from one to the other, and back again.

"I just…. I just don't want to be the reason that anyone gets hurt."

Both Morgan and JJ understood that mindset exquisitely well. Each of their families had been endangered as a result of the jobs they were in. Morgan had even left the BAU, and any possibility of work in the field, for the sake of his family.

_Except here I am, in the field again. But this is for family, too._ He slapped Reid gently on the back.

"I'm with JJ on this one. Give it up. Just like you can't desert your mom, we're not about to desert our brother. And, besides, who says anyone is going to get hurt?"

Reid looked from Morgan to JJ, who simply shrugged.

_No point in fighting us, Spence._

He got the message. "All right, you're right. Maybe we can do this without anyone getting hurt."

His words caused all three to utter a silent prayer that Diana hadn't _already_ been injured. Then Morgan nodded to both of them, promised to text when he made it back to the motel, and left.

* * *

Three hours later, JJ awakened in the strange bed, and looked about her in the pale illumination of moonlight. It took her a few moments to orient herself. She'd been in a million hotel rooms, and they all looked pretty much alike. But this one was different. Because this one _wasn't_ a hotel.

_The apartment, that's right! And poor Spence, stuck on the sofa._

Thirsty, she slipped her legs over the side of the bed and padded softly down the short hall. Their small kitchen opened to the living room; if she didn't want to wake Reid from his slumber, she would need to be very quiet. But, as she entered into the combined living space, it became quickly apparent that silence wouldn't be necessary.

"Spence?"

This room also caught the moonlight. In the near dark, she could see him sitting up, staring forward. When he startled to the sound of his name, she quizzed him.

"Have you been awake this whole time?"

Noticing the pillow that lacked the characteristic indentation, and the blanket that was still folded.

"I can't sleep. I can't get my mind to settle." He turned to look at her. "What are _you_ doing up?"

She continued her trek to the kitchen. "I was thirsty. I was trying to be quiet, so I wouldn't wake you."

"Well, I guess you don't need to worry about that."

She found two tumblers in a cabinet and filled them both with water. Still moving in the dim twilight, she put one glass in front of Reid, and sipped from the other, as she sat down beside him.

"You didn't get any sleep _last_ night, either. You have to be exhausted."

It was true. The photograph of his mother had sent him traveling through all of the night before, and much of the following day.

"My body is tired, but my mind….. I can't stop thinking of what she might be going through. Of how frightened she must be."

She bent forward and slowly placed her glass on the table, as she considered what to say. As much as she empathized with Reid, JJ knew she couldn't let him get lost in mental images of his mother suffering.

"We don't know for certain that he hurt her, Spence. You said yourself that the photograph was altered. Maybe he faked the bruises as well."

Reid put down his glass as well, and turned partially toward her.

"I hope they are. I can't stand the thought of her being manhandled by anyone. But I'm even more afraid of her mental torture. Most people don't realize this, but, for a schizophrenic, physical pain is almost a relief. It's real, and they can be sure of it. No one questions their sanity, no one tries to talk them out of it. When they're physically injured, or physically ill, they get sympathy, and treatment. It's the _other_ things that happen, the fears that other people don't share, that make them feel isolated, and unprotected. I'm afraid of whatever else he's doing to feed those fears."

JJ listened, and absorbed, and marveled once again about how little she actually understood about the early life of her best friend. And then, a thought struck her.

"Did she ever…..did she ever hurt herself, just to feel understood?"

Reid narrowed his gaze at the question, partly because it was insightful, and partly because it sounded like there was something else behind it. But he answered her directly.

"Not while I was around. Not while I was living at home, I mean. I think maybe she was afraid of what it would do to me, if I found her. But...do you know what she told me, when I went out to Vegas, to move her here, to Houston?"

"What?"

"She was having a pretty clear day….which was why I was so hopeful, you know? She was having a pretty clear day, and she told me that, before my dad left us, she'd thought about suicide a lot. She'd even taken a bottle of pills one time. Because she thought I would be better off without her. She knew she was sick….she'd still have good days and bad days then…..but, even in the worst of it, even though she wanted relief from her own torture….it was _me_ she thought about, when she planned to die. It was because she thought she'd be making things easier for _me_."

Just a hint of a break in his voice. JJ's hand reached out of its own accord, and started rubbing circles on his back.

"I'm glad she didn't do it."

Reid nodded. "So am I. But, do you know _why_ she didn't do it? She told me, not two months ago, that it was because my dad left us. She was all I had left, so she knew she couldn't leave me, too." A snort of bitter sarcasm burst forth. "How's that for irony? My dad ended up giving us something after all."

JJ's hand left his back and found his fingers.

"You said something about how she'd never hurt herself while you were around? What did you mean by that?"

Reid's grasp tightened on her hand.

"I started college when I was twelve. I couldn't very well live in a dorm, so I went to the state university and commuted. I even got my first PhD there. But I couldn't stay any longer. I was older, and able to take care of myself, and all of my advisors told me to look at Cal Tech. So I did. And I moved out there for a semester. But I had to put a plan in place for my mother, before I did."

JJ gave a self-chastising sigh. "I've never even thought about it, in all the years we've known one another. I guess I just took it for granted that it just kind of 'happened', and not that you'd had to have an active role in it. Even after you told me about your dad leaving, I just….I just never pictured it. I'm sorry, Spence…for what happened, and for not being a very good friend."

He lifted their clasped hands to his lips and kissed the smaller one.

"You are my _best_ friend, Jennifer Jareau. Don't sell yourself short. How could you possibly have known?"

"I should have thought…."

"No more than I should have realized about Roz, before you told me."

Recalling another very poignant, and painful, conversation between the two.

"I guess. But…anyway….you had to send her to Bennington before you could move away?"

He shook his head again. "No. In retrospect, I probably should have tried. But I knew how afraid she was of being institutionalized. So I worked with her doctors, and we put a plan in place for some home care. An aide a few times a week, to make sure she bathed, and ate. And nursing, to make sure she took her meds."

"It didn't work?"

"I think it worked for a while. At least, the reports were good. But then I finished up a project early, and came home for a surprise visit, and I found out she hadn't let anyone into the house for two weeks before. She'd put a sign on the door saying she was visiting her son. They never even tried to verify it. There was no food in the house. _None_. There was just a paper cup full of pills. When I walked in, she was swallowing them, one by one, calm as anything."

_Now_ JJ understood.

"She didn't think it would hurt you, anymore."

"That's what she told me, the day I moved her here. But, at the time, I thought it was because she felt _I'd_ abandoned her, too."

"How awful, Spence. No teenager should have to carry that kind of guilt."

"It got worse. Because I knew I couldn't stay there. I couldn't stay home and take care of her. There was no future for me in Vegas. And the one thing Mom was always careful to ingrain in me was that I needed to use my gifts. What was I going to do in Vegas? Hire myself out as a card-counter? So, no, I couldn't stay. But I couldn't take her with me, either. So…."

She knew him well enough to realize he was about to beat himself up, once again, just for having done what was necessary. So she beat him to the punch.

"So, you made the hardest decision in the world, and did what was best for her. You put her into the hands of competent, caring professionals, who helped her to live her life calmly, and…for the most part, at least…without fear. Isn't that how you've described the people at Bennington to me?"

He conceded. "It is, and they are. And it _was_ a good thing for her. But that day….. on _that_ day, I felt like the cruelest person in the world."

She squeezed his fingers. "Not Spencer Reid. Not _my_ Spencer Reid."

He cast her a grateful smile in the dark.

"I just don't want her to be afraid any more. I knew we risked that, when I moved her, but I was hopeful she'd be getting the intervention, and that her fear would be temporary. I _hoped_ I was offering her something she hadn't had since she was twenty-three." He turned to fully face her. "Am I a fool, JJ?"

JJ extricated her hand from his, so she could grasp his cheeks.

"Of course not, and, somewhere in there, you know it. You know you did the right thing, for the right reasons. God, Spence, don't take on guilt you don't own."

She sounded almost angry, and he started to apologize, but she waved him down.

"No, I'm sorry. It's just…. I've heard families doing this to themselves so many times. 'If only I'd called her, if only we'd gone out dinner, if only I hadn't turned down that invitation…..' They all try to think they had the power to control the uncontrollable, and they take the blame away from where it belongs. I've seen it tear families apart."

He was quiet a moment, thinking. "I didn't realize you stayed in touch with so many of them."

JJ turned around and sank back against the sofa cushions. "I was talking about my family. Me…my parents."

He narrowed his gaze at her again. "Roz?"

She nodded. "When Roz…..when she died….I felt like I should have been able to prevent it. Like, maybe if I hadn't accepted the necklace she'd given me, or if Daddy hadn't gone to my soccer game instead of her recital…..I even remember thinking that, if I'd let her take the front seat in the car, even when it was my turn…."

"Trying to control the uncontrollable."

"Yep. And it makes no sense, right? The 'uncontrollable' has already happened. Was I trying to keep it from happening again?" Then, thinking better about it, "You know, that probably _is_ what happened with my parents. There was a lot of arguing, a lot of tears….and a lot of hovering over me."

"They were afraid for you."

"I'm thinking they were afraid _of_ me. That I might do what Roz did. But I was totally different from her. In some ways, I guess I _became_ totally different _because_ of her."

"How so?"

Not a polite inquiry. He really wanted to know. So she took her time trying to put it into words.

"Well, for one thing, I think I used to smile more."

It saddened Reid to think of that. Her smiles had always felt like sunshine to him.

"And I think I was a lot more open…..I know, it happens with age anyway, we all acquire filters we didn't have when we were young. But….sometimes I think I took it too far. Like I developed some kind of shield around me, so no one could get too close."

He squinted at her. "I've never felt that way."

"You're not everyone. I think I even did it with my parents, to a degree. I think I might have been as afraid of hurting them as they were of hurting me. Trust me, that's not the way to build a strong relationship."

This was all new to Reid. He'd known her for over ten years, and never quite seen this side of her.

"You and your mom have always seemed close, to me."

"We are….now. But it took a very long time before we closed the distance between us. It's funny….they wanted to be close to me, to protect me, because of Roz. And I wanted to keep them away, for the same reason. And….well, that's why I asked that question before….you know, about whether your mom might have hurt herself so people would see her pain in a concrete way? I wonder if Roz hurt herself for the same reason. Not schizophrenia, I don't think there were any symptoms of that. But because her psychic pain wasn't visible, and she needed to make it seen."

It was his turn to pick up on the upset in her voice, and to put an arm around her shoulders.

"That's pretty insightful."

"Yeah, well, it _would_ have been, if it had happened when I was eleven. Now, it's just regret."

He squeezed her, and she laid her head against his shoulder.

"I guess we all have some burden to bear. For the record, I wish I'd been there to help you bear yours."

She smiled at him. "Still bearing, Spence. And you _are_ here. So, thanks."

He returned the look. "Same here. I wish with all of my being that we weren't here for the reason we are. But I'm glad to have you with me, for whatever happens. I kind of count on it."

JJ pushed off and stood, pulling him with her. Then she fluffed the pillow and shook out the blanket.

"Well, count on this, my friend. You need some sleep. So let's see that bushy head on this pillow, all right?"

"I can't…."

"Try."

"But...I usually read myself to sleep, but I only have the books I could carry on the plane. I read each of them twice on the flight."

"See? I told you it was time to get an electronic reader."

"Ugh….I don't…"

"Shh! All right, lie down and I'll see if I can put you to sleep."

A look of disbelief on his face, he challenged her. "Exactly how do you plan to do that?"

"I'll have you know I am an expert at putting young men to sleep. Now, lie down…"

He shook his head, but did as he was told. JJ laid the blanket over him, and tucked it in a bit. Then she sat on the arm of the sofa, and laid her hand gently on his head before she began.

"Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a castle. In that castle, there lived a princess…."

For Reid, the moment was bittersweet. Countless nights and days of his boyhood, he'd lain beside his mother on her bed, listening to her low, raspy voice reading to him the tales of medieval times, full of castles, and royalty, and intrigue, and romance, and….

In his state of physical and emotional exhaustion, and despite the turmoil of his thoughts, it was only a few moments before the memory of Diana's voice melded with the reality of JJ's, and the formidable two-woman team put their young squire to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

_**A.N. Apologies for the ridiculously long delay in posting, and apologies again if it's a while before this one is finished. I started it last year, during our Reidless period, anticipating it to last only that long, but it had other ideas. There's only so much time for writing, and I got distracted by the Reid arc, into a series of post-eps, and then another longer story (Broken), which is still in progress. Unlike some of my more talented counterparts here, I'm not good at writing two different convoluted plot lines at the same time. But, for the Reidless duration this year, I'll do my best.** _

**_A reminder, since it's been so long. Stephen Walker and Matt Simmons aren't on board for this one. Reid hasn't been to prison. And, since we'd learned nothing about Morgan's life when I started this, he is still with the FBI, overseeing the exchange of intelligence info between various police departments and the Bureau._ **

* * *

**Missing**

**Chapter 8**

The rest of the team arrived the following day, joining Rossi at the local FBI office.

"Good thinking, on the apartment, Rossi. That gives them a little more freedom to move about, since we hope Scratch doesn't realize Reid is here."

As he handed out the encrypted phones to the rest of the team, Rossi agreed with his new unit chief.

"If Scratch had eyes on Vegas Memorial, he already knows you've been there, and he'll be expecting you to show up in Houston. So we have to assume we're all being watched. At least we have three agents who can move more freely."

"Three?"

Rossi held up his new phone. "Who do you think brought these?"

Emily wasn't impressed with the idea of having Anderson added to her team in the field, but her new position meant she had to be politically correct enough not to say so.

"Oh, right. But…do you really think we should leave him with Reid and JJ?"  _Anderson?_

Neither of them had been with the team at the time, but Anderson's faux pas over leaving Elle Greenaway unprotected had been well circulated through the FBI gossip network.

She hadn't needed to say the name aloud. Rossi was perfectly capable of reading the look on her face.

"I'm talking about  _Morgan_."

Emily's brows raised in surprise. "Morgan's here? But how? Why?" Thinking better of it. "Never mind the 'why'. How?"

Rossi explained the unannounced visit to Garcia, and Morgan's immediately jumping back on board to help his 'little brother'.

"He brought the phones to them last night, then stayed in a different location from mine. We can keep him hidden, relatively speaking."

"But… what about the Bureau? He's not with the BAU anymore."

Rossi shrugged. "He got Cruz to sign off. Either that, or Penelope made it  _look_  like he did. I'm not asking too many questions right now."

Emily considered it for a moment. There was no one she wanted on board for this more than Morgan. Well, save one, maybe, but that wasn't an option. At least Morgan was still with the FBI, even if not the BAU. And maybe Cruz  _had_  signed off on it.

_Maybe_.

She made the split-second decision to go with it.

"All right, they're a team of three. We can communicate with them via encryption, but no in-person meetings without going through me, all right?"

Tara had a point to make. "We're thinking Scratch doesn't know Reid is in Houston, right? And, if he's been watching the team, he won't suspect that Morgan is involved. But what about JJ?"

Rossi had already been there. "Scratch will still be monitoring our other phones, so we're going to have to have some chatter on them. I had Garcia program a clone to JJ's phone, and bring it to her home. The cover is that Michael is sick, and JJ is home with him." He laughed, as he took his official FBI phone from his pocket and showed them a photo. "She sent this."

The others joined in laughing as they looked at a selfie of a worried Penelope, laden with three bowls of chicken soup for her perfectly healthy godson.

Luke was bemused. "I'll give her this much…..she knows how to play it up."

Rossi turned to his newest colleague. "Listen, when this is over, and you get to meet Morgan in person, be careful what you say about her."

Emily chuckled. "Yeah. That's his 'Baby Girl'."

* * *

Miles away, Reid pushed up slowly from the sofa, after a restless sleep. That he'd slumbered at all had been a miracle, wrought by the soothing voice of his best friend. The sound of the shower running, as well as a certain blissful aroma, told him she was already awake.

He followed his nose to the kitchen, and filled the mug she'd left out for him, sitting right next to the container of sugar. He let the caffeine work its magic before trying to put together a plan for the day. He was still coming to full alertness when JJ entered the kitchen.

"The shower's all yours."

"Thanks. And thanks for the coffee. For that matter, thanks for the sleep."

She smiled. "I told you. It works on all of my boys."

She'd just never tried it on that one before.

"So, we should probably call Rossi. I don't know if the others are here yet. They may not have the new phones."

"Actually, I spoke with Rossi already. The others were meeting him at the FBI field office right around now."

"How…." Reid's watch wasn't on his wrist. He looked around for a clock, finding only the digital readout on the apartment's microwave.

"Is that the right time? It's almost ten?"

He felt like he'd lost half a day of searching for his mother.

"You were exhausted, Spence. You needed sleep. Blame me if you want, but I thought it was better to get you to a place where you could think clearly. I'm sorry if that was the wrong thing to do."

His rational brain knew she'd been right to let him sleep, even if his primitive brain was unable to get past the fear that something terrible had been perpetrated upon his mother. He did his best to align himself with the rational.

"Don't apologize. I know you're right. I'm just worried about giving Scratch an advantage."

"The only advantage he can have is to neutralize you. We can't let that happen. You knew right away that the hospital photo was faked. We didn't. You know your mom like no one else knows her. We need your head in this game, firing on all cylinders, Spence."

He acknowledged it. "I know. You're right….and thank you. But, the thing is….I know my  _mom_  the best. What we need now is someone who knows Scratch the same way."

"You mean like…family? I thought he didn't have any, or at least none that would admit to being related to him."

"Maybe. Or….."

He'd gotten that look on his face, the one that meant he'd leapt ahead by three steps beyond her.

"What?"

"I need to call Rossi. Do you think he's connected with Emily and the others yet?"

"Spence, we've already talked about this. Rossi thinks we should stay below the radar, and I agree with him. We can't connect with the others."

He nodded impatiently. "I know that. We can't meet with them in person. But that doesn't mean we can't speak with them, now that we've got these phones. But I really just need to speak with Rossi."

_Without Emily knowing about it._  But he wouldn't say it aloud. If there was going to be trouble, he wouldn't drag her into it.

JJ responded, unaware of Reid's internal dialogue. "No reason you can't call him. He's encrypted already."

"Right." But he didn't want to have the conversation in front of her. "Maybe I should shower and dress. Didn't Morgan say he was coming back this morning?"

She smiled. "That was another conversation I had when I got up. He said to tell you he knows you need your beauty sleep. He's waiting for me to call him."

Reid smiled, as she'd intended. "Tell him Pretty Boy is up and ready. But I don't think he should come here, at least not until we come up with a reason why he would. It's daylight now, too easy to see who's coming and going."

"All right. Where, then?"

"Does that buffet place have a breakfast?"

* * *

Without telling JJ, he'd called Rossi from the bedroom. The senior agent hadn't been all that surprised at the request. He had, in fact, considered it himself. But he could make no promises.

"Let me think about it a little longer, all right?"

Even the question had given something away, although Reid had chosen not to point that out.

"All right. Thanks."

Now they were meeting Morgan at a small diner not far from the buffet place, which, they had both been happy to learn, did not serve breakfast. Their former colleague was already seated in a booth when they arrived.

"Hey, Pretty Boy, Blondie. You look like you got some shuteye."

"Did I really look that bad yesterday?" Reid had heard nothing but, since his friends had arrived.

Morgan laughed at him. "You would have seen it yourself, if you hadn't been so bleary-eyed. So, what's on the agenda for today?"

JJ answered "We're supposed to conference in with Emily and the others. As long as Cruz is on board, and it sounds like he is, you're on the team."

Reid wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. Actually, he  _was_  quite sure. But he felt two contradictory ways.

"Morgan, you left the field because of your family. We can't know what Scratch has done with my mother, nor what he might have planned for any of the rest of us. I don't think you should risk it."

Derek Morgan stared down the man he loved like a brother.

"Kid, you're beginning to irritate me, with that 'family' thing. Sure, Savannah and little Hank are my family. But so are you. I'm not about to leave you hanging here. Besides, Savannah loves you, too. She'd have my hide if I didn't stay to help."

Reid looked appropriately abashed…..and then profoundly relieved.

"Thank God."

JJ laughed at the two men. "You guys. I swear, if you two weren't thirty plus years older, I'd confuse you for Henry and Michael."

The three had breakfast, and brainstormed over a cover story that would allow Morgan have a presence at the apartment JJ and Reid were sharing. They could already tell that newcomers were under scrutiny in the neighborhood, and a threesome would definitely arouse suspicion. In the end, they settled on designating Morgan as a newly-discharged former soldier, a US Army buddy of the recently fallen brother to the female half of the young couple.

"They won't ask too many questions if they think you're in mourning."

JJ agreed. "Okay. And we can always say you'd come over to reminisce and had one too many, if you need to stay the night."

Reid gulped one final mouthful of coffee before they paid the check and headed out. Morgan had parked at the far end of the small parking lot, so they chose that area for their conference call. JJ dialed them in.

"We're here."

"Reid? Are you okay?" The worried voice belonged to their unit chief. Emily hadn't spoken to her missing genius since the news of his disappearance.

"I'm fine. Sorry, I had no way to get word to you."

"I understand. And I'm sorry about your mother. We took a look at Las Vegas Memorial and.."

"It didn't pan out, I know. Again, I'm sorry. I could have saved you the trip." He explained how he'd already determined the photo had been faked.

"Don't apologize. For all we know, Scratch would have known you'd figure it out, and hoped you would assume you'd think your mother was still in Houston, even if she wasn't. At least, this way, we can feel certain she's not in Vegas."

"Except that we don't know that. If Scratch were dealing with just anyone, a simple twist might be all he'd employ. But he knows he's dealing with the BAU…"

"And with its resident genius," finished Emily, understanding. "So all bets are off. He might have doubled back, or even back again."

Reid agreed with her. "Which means my mother might be here, or there, or anywhere in between. Although…"

Tara's voice came through the line. "Reid, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that he's put both locations on the table for a reason. Scratch is all about playing the game. But it's not really a game if he doesn't risk losing it. So, while my mom could be anywhere, I think he's got her in one of the two locations. And, right now, I'm betting on Houston."

"Why?" Literally all of them had said it, on both ends of the conversation.

"Because he doesn't want me to have the advantage. If I were on my home territory, in Las Vegas, I would. Here in Houston, it's a level playing field."

Rossi mused on the idea. "An open board. Anybody's game."

"Exactly."


	9. Chapter 9

_**Missing** _

_**Chapter 9** _

Garcia hadn't been able to find anything on the security cameras from Orchard Hills, but she sent the footage to Houston anyway. Maybe a profiler would be able to see something that she hadn't.

"The thing is," she explained to Emily Prentiss, "I don't see Mrs. Reid anywhere. The film shows residents and staff moving about, and even a few near-misses, where the alarm went off, and staff had to go and retrieve someone trying to go out the door. But I don't recognize Diana Reid in anything."

"Well, according to Reid, she was always happiest in the library. Maybe she's just not one for wandering."

"Except that she wandered into a casino in Las Vegas that time, remember? Maybe she  _used_  to like the library. Maybe the Alzheimer's has changed that."

Emily conceded the point. But that left them without an explanation as to why Diana was invisible on the security footage.

"Can you go back further, Garcia? How long do they keep the recordings?"

"Only for a week, I'm afraid. Then they erase them to make room on their recorder."

"Damn. That means we've already lost two days worth."

"Uh…maybe not."

"Garcia?"

"I may ….or may not.. have appropriated the full week's worth when you first told me to access the cameras."

Holding her breath. Profiler Emily Prentiss would have applauded that. But she wasn't as sure that Unit Chief Emily Prentiss would do the same.

"Outstanding, Garcia! Send us all of the recordings. I'll have Luke and Tara review them. Maybe they'll see something you didn't. Unless….. do you have a way to get them to Reid?"

She didn't, at the moment. Sending encrypted messages was one thing, encrypted hijacked video logs another.

"All right, we'll figure it out if we need to. Rossi and I are going to check out the 'Hank Johnson' who flew from DC to Houston. Can you send the address to our phones?"

She heard a few clicks, and then, "Done. It looks like he's lived there for about eight months, so I don't know…."

"Only one way to be sure. Thanks, Garcia."

* * *

Elsewhere, on the outskirts of Houston, the three current and former profilers returned to their rented apartment.

"Should I bring Morgan down to the shop and introduce him? May as well get the gossip mill going," offered JJ.

"Do you mind if we just go through some things first? My brain hasn't been the clearest lately, and it would help me to go over what we know with the two of you first."

She understood. Reid's powerful mind often worked best alone, but not until after the team had brainstormed. She called Morgan out from the bedroom, where Garcia had mediated an encrypted call with Savannah.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

He grinned. "I married up. Savannah sends her love to both of you. And she told me not to come home until the Reid family was back together again."

"Tell her 'thanks', for me," said Reid. "But Hank needs his dad. If we don't have my mom back within the next day or two, I'm sending you home."

_Besides, if it's more than that, it will mean she's already gone. I'm sure of it._

The others exchanged a glance. There had been no need for Reid to speak the words aloud.

"Okay, then," Morgan got them started, "let's review what we know, and what we don't."

JJ began the list. "Well, we know the obvious. That Diana is missing, and that someone impersonated Reid to sign her out of Orchard Hills."

"And we know that someone went out of his way…or  _her_  way, I guess I shouldn't presume… to make sure I was aware."

"Technically," corrected JJ, "we only know that someone wanted you to think she was in Las Vegas, and that she'd been beaten. It's probably a safe assumption that we're talking about the same person who removed her from Orchard Hills, but it's an assumption, nonetheless."

"We know," offered Morgan, "that they were able to hack into your phone, to send that photo. And we know that they faked it."

"But we don't know," said JJ, "If they realized Reid would catch on that they'd faked the photo. They could still think he believes she was admitted to Memorial."

"Or, if it's Scratch," surmised Reid, "he could have assumed I would identify the photograph as a fake, and be left with the dilemma of wondering whether she was in Houston or Vegas."

"So, we're moving into assumptions?" asked JJ.

"I think we have to. There's too little that we know." Reid was ready to proceed with the back-and-forth, with Mr. Scratch playing the role of the unsub. "So, if it's Peter Lewis…..and I think it is….. we know he's got a grudge against the BAU because ….why?"

Morgan frowned. "That one never made sense to me. His parents were accused while they were running that foster home, right? But it was the BAU that debunked those kinds of implanted memories. I've never understood why he hated us."

JJ shrugged. "Maybe because the FBI wasn't quick enough to mitigate the damage?"

"Maybe he just hated us because Hotch tried to save the woman who validated their recovered memories," offered Reid. "But he must have realized that the FBI would have actually gotten his father released from prison, if he'd survived the attack there."

JJ agreed. "And he did take a job with the NSA after Harvard. Not that he had much choice, I guess. But he was a government employee himself."

"It's not going to make sense, guys. The man is insane," their friend reminded them.

"Morgan's right," said Reid. "But even if it's not logical, behavior driven by insanity can have a pattern. So we need to look for one."

"All right, I'll start." JJ went back to the beginning of the case where they'd first heard of Mr. Scratch. "He hated the other kids who were in that foster home so much that he tracked each of them down as adults. Then he used a concoction of chemicals to create a gas that would both sedate them and render them susceptible to suggestion. And he made each of them murder the person most important to them."

Morgan made a correction. "Except for that one father who slit his own throat, instead of killing his son."

"Love trumps all," murmured Reid, under his breath.

"The psychologist killed herself as well," added JJ. "But Hotch had already walked in on it. Either Scratch thought she was self-centered enough to be the most important person in her own life, or Hotch's presence threw off his plan. Speaking of," added JJ, "we know he gassed Hotch, but we don't know what he might have had planned for him, because he never had a chance to carry it out."

Morgan didn't agree. "Hotch was never a part of Scratch's plan. He interrupted the attack on the psychologist, so Scratch took advantage of it. But he never had the chance to implement a suggestion, because we arrived too quickly afterward."

"Do we know that?" challenged Reid. "I know Rossi debriefed Hotch, and he told us nothing had happened. But …. Hotch seemed pretty dazed. I mean, I've always thought that Scratch wasn't able to get Hotch to follow a suggestion, because he'd already given him a concussion, and that affected his ability to process. But….that doesn't mean that Scratch didn't try."

JJ didn't follow. "What difference does it make? Either way, he didn't get to Hotch. But he  _did_  manage to perfect taking advantage of a situation, when he went after Tara's brother."

Morgan agreed. "Yeah, that was strange….well, all around, it was strange. Tara wasn't even with the BAU when we had the Scratch case, so his involvement with her brother told us he'd been watching the team."

"And his ability to alter the mindset of his subject had evolved considerably," added Reid. "He was able to implant a full personal history of Tara's brother into the mind of a complete stranger."

"Take it further than that," urged JJ. "Because he had plans to torture Tara by killing her brother right in front of her. And if Spence hadn't been able to figure out the two triggers, it would have been the BAU's fault."

"Guilt," said Reid. "It's all about guilt. He wanted all of the people who'd been fostered in his home to feel guilty, just as they'd been coerced into declaring the guilt of his parents."

Morgan took it up. "And he wanted Tara….and the rest of us….to feel guilty about the death of her brother."

JJ laid a hand on Reid's arm. "Spence, do you think that's why he's targeted you and your mom? Because you thwarted his attempt to lay guilt on the BAU?"

Reid had been lost in thought, and took a moment to respond. "Maybe. The question now is how he'll try to apply guilt to me."

That threw each of them into silence, as they considered the two obvious choices. Either Scratch would kill Diana, and make Reid watch….or he would try to force Reid to kill his own mother.

_No, you won't. I won't let you. Love trumps all._

* * *

While the others checked in with the rest of the team, Reid claimed some time outside to stretch his legs….and to make his own phone call.

"Rossi….I'm sorry to bother you about this, but I need…."

"Say no more. It's a risk, but a worthy one, I think. I have some numbers for you. Let me make a call. When you see those numbers come up on your phone, answer it."

He recited a list, easily committed to memory by the genius on the other end of the call.

"Be very careful, please."

"I will."

Reid walked down the short block and toward an empty lot. He was nearly there when his phone buzzed in his hand. The numbers Rossi had given him appeared on his screen. He pressed on the 'answer' button, and put the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

The caller smiled to himself. It had been only a few months, but he'd nearly forgotten that instantly recognizable vocal timbre.

"Reid."

"Hotch."


	10. Chapter 10

_**Missing** _

_**Chapter 10** _

"Hotch, it's good to hear your voice."

It wasn't just good, it was unduly heartening. No matter the outcome of this conversation, Reid knew his former mentor and friend couldn't emerge from hiding. Not yet, and maybe not ever. But just hearing the familiar deep tone instilled him with sorely-needed confidence that he, and Diana, and all of them, could come out of this.

"Same here."

"Are you okay? I mean, I know…."

"We're fine. I know you've taken precautions, but we'll need to keep this brief."

"Of course. Thanks for even considering it. I wouldn't have asked Rossi if I hadn't been desperate."

"Understood. By the way, how did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That he would be able to reach me."

"Oh. Well, I knew you wouldn't have used WitSec because Scratch had been all over that database. So I deduced that you had to have had help from the inside, and it was Rossi who announced it to us, so…."

"So you knew it was a private arrangement."

"I'm hoping it's a temporary one, too."

Aaron Hotchner heard the sincerity and raw admiration in the voice of his former colleague, and was touched. Of the many regrets he'd had about leaving the BAU, the loss of his mentoring relationship with Spencer Reid loomed large. The young man had brought so much of his potential to fruition, but Hotch new there remained an untapped reservoir.

"That makes two of us." Then, getting down to business, "Rossi filled me in on your situation. I'm sorry about your mother. How do you think I can help you?"

"I'm just  _hoping_  you can. It feels like I'm in some kind of game with Scratch, and I need to understand more about how he thinks. You're the only one who's actually interacted with him. I was hoping you could help me get into his head."

Several years and hundreds of miles away, Hotch flashed back on his encounter with Peter Lewis. His subconscious had visited it over and over again, in spite of his efforts to squelch it. He hadn't told the real story to anyone…. not the FBI therapist, not the prosecuting attorney…not even his good friend, David Rossi. He'd whitewashed his experience in generic terms, and attempted to move on. Until the serial killer prison break, it had been an effective strategy, or so he'd tried to convince himself.

Reid responded to the prolonged silence that had met his plea. His brain had conjured an image of his former unit chief, lost in indecision. He had to push.

"Hotch… it's my mother. I can't let him have her."

The undertone of pleading was enough to bring the older man out of his reverie.

"I'll do what I can."

"Thank God." It came as a whisper, followed by a stronger voice. "Thanks. Thank you."

"You said you want to get inside his head. What, exactly, do you mean?"

"Well, we know he hates the FBI, but we're not really sure why. He should have been grateful, if anything, that the BAU debunked those false accusations."

"The conclusions from the FBI, and the Lanning Reportm came out too late to save his father. He probably sees the FBI as part of the establishment that helped put his father into the prison where he died."

"And then we tried to stop him from seeking revenge on the kids who'd made the accusations."

"Except that he was one of them."

Reid hadn't heard this before. "He was? He falsely accused his own father? Unless…. Do you think the accusations were actually true? Do you think he's angry  _because_  the FBI and the Lanning Report debunked recovered-memory accusations?"

Hotch didn't agree. "I think it's more likely that he's angry with us for not stopping the process sooner. He's angry with us because we didn't stop him from making a false accusation against his own father."

"Guilt. He's angry with us because now he has to suffer guilt, and he thinks it's our fault."

Across the miles, Hotch nodded. "Yes. It's why he made his victims hurt the ones they loved the most, because we didn't stop him from doing the same."

The idea resonated with Reid. "Did Rossi tell you about Tara's brother?"

"Yes. Guilt played a role there, as well, didn't it?"

"It did. He used the imposter to lay guilt on both Tara and her father, and then he tried to set it up so Tara's attempt to rescue her real brother would lead to his death."

"Guilt…and horror."

Reid was silent for a minute, thinking about the implications for his own situation. If Scratch wanted to afflict him with guilt, he had several ways to accomplish it. He reviewed them with Hotch.

"So… he could hurt my mother, and make me responsible, for not finding her in time. He may have already done that." Conjuring a mental image of the photograph sent to his cell. The setting of Las Vegas Memorial may have been photoshopped, but he couldn't be as certain about the bruises. "Or he could try to drug me, and make me hurt her."

"Or he could simply make you  _think_  you had."

This was also new to Reid.

"Are you saying that, instead of implanting an idea that would  _cause_  me to harm her, he could just implant the idea that I  _had_  harmed her? Have we known him to operate that way?"

At the other end of the call, Hotch was torn. Telling Reid the truth wouldn't change his own situation with Jack. But it might help the young man he deeply respected and cared about.

_And why have I held it back all this time anyway? Because it would make me look weak? Or….no….it's because he made me_ feel _weak. He found my vulnerability._

Peter Lewis had definitely drugged him. Afterwards, he'd implanted a suggestion...or maybe Hotch's mind had taken him there on its own. For a long time, he'd been haunted by the images he'd seen that night…..Reid, the young man he was talking to, taken out with a head shot, his good friend Dave Rossi, and then Derek Morgan, shot in the neck, leaving only his least experienced profiler, Jennifer Jareau, to do battle with Scratch.

The vision had ended there, displaced by the real arrival of his team. And, despite his impaired state, he'd somehow managed to resist the suggestion to shoot and kill one of his own. But all of it had been committed to memory, and the ordeal had continued to haunt him.

At first, he'd assumed the obvious…..that the fear of losing any one of his team members was his great vulnerability, that Scratch had sought to torture him with those images. But then, one day, he began to wonder…..maybe it  _wasn't_  that. Maybe the lesson, maybe the truth uncovered by the drugs, was that he didn't really  _trust_  his team. In his moment of extreme peril, his mind had shown him their failure to save him.

_That came from me, not from Peter Lewis._

He'd flashed back, that day, on a conversation he'd once had with Derek Morgan. He'd accused Morgan of not trusting the team with his life.

_Maybe I was projecting._

Hotch had never told anyone of his insight. He'd barely acknowledged it to himself, and he still wasn't sure of it's veracity. Now he was contemplating sharing the incident with Reid. Could he tell him the facts, without offering the meaning? Would the young genius make the leap anyway?

_Does it really matter, anymore?_

"Hotch? You still there?"

He decided.

"He did it to me. He…. drugged me, and planted a suggestion."

The hesitation in his former superior's voice told Reid that what he was hearing was painful for Hotch to reveal, and he became immediately solicitous.

"You don't have to tell me, Hotch. I'll take your word for it that he operates that way. So, I have to be prepared that he's actually done something to my mom, or that he'll try to influence me to do it…or to make me think it. Make me  _see_ it."

" _See_  it, that's it. He won't just implant a memory. He'll make you watch it, as though it's happening in real time."

Reid was silent for a moment. Then, in a soft voice, he offered a note of sympathy.

"I'm sorry. For whatever he put you through….I'm sorry."

"It's over." Even if it wasn't. "Now we need to make sure he can't hurt anyone else."

Unseen, Reid nodded. "So…. Where do we go from here? He's taken her, we know that much. And he's either keeping her hidden, or he's abandoned her somewhere, and she can't find her way. Garcia's surveilling as best she can for the name Diana Reid, but I can't even be sure she'll remember who she is."

Hotch thought for a moment.

"He gets his pleasure from watching us suffer. He's almost clinical about it." Flashing, once again, on the face of Peter Lewis so close to his own on that awful night. "He doesn't know you're there, nor JJ and Morgan, but he's no doubt seen the rest of the team at the FBI office. He'll assume you're in hiding, and he'll try to draw you out."

Reid saw where his mentor was going. "Unless I draw him out first."

"Exactly. But, Reid….. you've got to be prepared. Don't go anywhere alone. Don't put yourself into a situation where he can drug you and do whatever he wants with you…or  _to_ you. You won't save her that way."

"Understood."

Miles away, Hotch's lips creased into a resigned smile. Reid had just agreed with him, without agreeing with him.

_Some things never change._

"If you need to speak with me again, have Dave get a message to me, and we'll arrange a call. Reid…. I know you can do this. But…good luck."

Reid's smile was genuine. "Thanks. If I have  _really_ good luck, I'm hoping to thank you in person."


	11. Chapter 11

_**Missing** _

_**Chapter 11** _

"You go off by yourself to think, and this is what you come up with? That you have to draw him out?"

Reid wasn't positioned to disclose his phone conversation with Hotch, so he simply parried the idea.

"I have to do something, Morgan. He knows the team is here. He'll assume I'm on my way, or that I'm doing exactly what I am doing…hiding."

JJ didn't like the connotation.

"Spence, you're not hiding, you're strategizing."

"It's not about my ego, JJ. It's about my mother, and the fact that I still don't know where she is, nor whether she's hurt, nor….nor whether she's even still alive."

"She's alive, Kid," said Morgan, with a confidence designed to bolster his friend. "He wouldn't take the chance of losing his ace."

"I hope you're right. But he won't keep her alive indefinitely. He's like a child. He'll get bored, and want to move on, unless he engages me in something. So I need to let him."

"But how?" JJ sounded every bit as concerned as Morgan.

Reid spent some time completing a thought that had first come to him while he was speaking with Hotch. When he was ready, he put it forward.

"I need to let him think he's won, that he's bested me. He needs to think that I fell for his ruse, that I believe he's killed my mother. He'll take great delight in telling me how I'm wrong. I'm sure of it."

Speaking with full confidence, hoping neither of his friends would ask him _how_  he could be so sure.

JJ was torn. The very idea of her best friend using himself as bait frightened her. Scratch had already shown himself to be a danger to the BAU. But Reid couldn't be expected to just give up on finding his mother.

_Either way, he'd be destroyed._

So she made the only decision she could, just as she was sure Reid had. She would support him.

"I don't like it, but I get it. So we have to find a way for you to draw him out. And then what?"

Reid shook his head. "I haven't quite figured that out yet. He tries to get his victims to hurt the people they love, so I assume he'll try to get me to hurt my mother. Or he'll try to make me think I have."

_If he's already killed her._

Morgan picked up on that last sentence.

"We've only known him to influence his victims to hurt themselves or the ones they love. He doesn't just inflict psychological trauma, he goes for the real thing."

Reid realized he'd let slip something he'd learned from Hotch. He trusted these two friends with his life, but it had been part of the promise he'd made to Rossi, when he'd reached out, that he would keep it between them. Rossi had been sympathetic.

_'If this works, he'll be able to come back, and they'll know soon enough, Spencer.'_

So he covered with Morgan. "I just think he might treat us differently. He sees us as getting inside people's heads. He might feel like it gives him the upper hand if he can get inside ours.

JJ thought they were debating a moot point. "Can we get back to the plan? I know you have to do this, Spence, but I'm worried."

Morgan still wasn't happy with the idea either, but he didn't have an alterative to offer. Just some words of caution.

"You can't be on your own in this. We'll have eyes on you and I'm sure Baby Girl can set us up with a listening device that's undetectable."

Reid agreed to using the device, as long as it could be hidden, and had another request to pass along to Garcia.

"There are intranasal air filters that would be virtually invisible to him. They're not perfect, but they might at least diminish the amount of gas I inhale long enough to let me get what I need from him."

"Got it. I'll call her," said Morgan. "You should talk to Emily."

As Morgan moved away to make his call, JJ laid a hand on Reid's arm.

"Spence, promise me that you won't go off on your own here. Morgan's right. We'll be watching and listening, to keep you safe. But we won't be in the room with you. I know you're afraid for your mother, but please remember that there are also people who are afraid for  _you_."

He smiled at her expression of love and support.

"I will. For the record, I count on it."

He waited for the call to go through on his encrypted phone. When Emily answered, he laid out the rudimentary plan. Not having a better one, she was quickly on board. But she did feel the need to caution him.

"I don't want you going anywhere alone, not until we're ready with surveillance and tracking equipment. And…wait…Garcia is texting me about some kind of air filter?"

He explained. "I think it will buy me some time."

"But it won't be completely effective? You're still expecting him to succeed in drugging you?"

"I think I have to assume that he will. That's his m.o., Emily. If I want to get close to him, I have to risk it."

A short silence ensued before she conceded. "I guess we'll just have to make sure we get you out of there before he gets his way."

* * *

Morgan met an agent from the Houston FBI office at a roadside tavern about fifty miles away, and returned with the necessary equipment. After he was satisfied with Reid's ability to handle it, he presented his younger friend to JJ, for inspection.

"I can't see anything…oh, wait a minute. When I get close, I can see the filters."

Reid acknowledged it. "They have to be placed low in the nasal cavity to be effective. I'll just have to hope he doesn't get close enough to see."

"Yeah, let's hope he's in the habit of getting his funnies from a distance," said Morgan, no hint of humor in his tone.

The question of how Reid might 'arrive' in Houston had been discussed and dismissed. Scratch may have been monitoring airlines for evidence of Reid's travel to either Houston or Las Vegas at the beginning, but it was unlikely he was still doing so. Knowing the team had come to Houston, he would simply wait for Reid to show up. Which Reid  _would_  do, at the Houston FBI office. Morgan and JJ would keep their presence in Texas hidden, allowing them greater freedom of movement in being able to keep eyes on their friend.

Before any of that could happen, Garcia called them urgently.

"Jayje, I just got a message from Will, on the encrypted phone I left with him. Don't worry, they're all okay. But a message just came into the phone I cloned from yours. It's a message for Reid."

JJ squinted at Garcia's image. "What?"

"It's from Scratch, it's got to be. He knows Reid left his phone behind, because it was on, and he was able to geo-track it. So he knows it's in DC. That must be why he sent the message to  _you_."

"Does that mean he realizes she's here?" from Morgan overlapped with "Garcia, what's the message?" from Reid, flustering the tech analyst.

"One at a time. The answer is, "I don't know if he realizes JJ is with you. He  _should_  still believe she's home, where her cloned phone is, taking care of Mikey. Maybe he just thinks she would know how to get a message to Reid."

"Garcia…" Reid's voice was full of impatience.

"Right, sorry. So the message is another photo, which I was able to download and I'm about to send it to you now. I'm sorry, sweet genius. It will be hard to look at."

All three phones lit up with the same photograph. JJ cringed at the sight, and then looked to her best friend, prepared to offer support. To her surprise, his features were narrowed in concentration, but not horror.

"What is it?"

Reid continued to stare at the phone. "The old bruises….the ones we saw on the photoshopped picture….they're gone. And they shouldn't be. They were too fresh, there should still be signs of them."

"Meaning?" asked Morgan.

"Meaning they had to be makeup. I can't tell if these are or not, but it's possible he's not hurt her. He might just have her hidden somewhere. It's not been his practice to commit violence himself. He prefers to watch others do it."

JJ continued to study the photo. "There's something else. Look at the difference between that last shot and this one. She's thinner. And…"

Reid knew what she was referring to. He'd seen it right away, that old, familiar, look in her eyes. The one he'd always dreaded, as a boy.

"She's off her meds. Which means she doesn't need Scratch to do the deed….her own demons are terrifying her."

The conversation was interrupted by another call from Garcia.

"He's sent another one, just now. Will took a photo of it and sent me the screen shot. This one's got text."

She forwarded the screen shot, which consisted of a similar photograph, overwritten with the words, 'WHERE, OH, WHERE CAN THIS LUNATIC BE? OH WHERE, OH WHERE CAN SHE BE?'

Morgan threw a glance at his old friend. "He's taunting you."

"No," said JJ, her brow furrowed. "He's _luring_  you. This is a nursery rhyme, I've sung it to the boys a thousand times." She spent a moment humming to herself, then looked up, eyes bright with excitement. "Okay, I learned it like this:  _'Oh where, oh where Has my little dog gone? Oh where, oh where can he be? With his ears cut short, And his tail cut long Oh where, oh where can he be?'_

She looked to her friends. "Does that sound familiar?"

Morgan nodded, but Reid had never heard it before. Nursery rhymes had come and gone quickly in his childhood.

"Okay, so that's all I thought there was to it. But Will learned it differently, and he taught it to the boys. Said it made the rhyme more 'manly'." Using finger quotes. Then she hummed a bit more to herself, trying to remember Will's version exactly.

"Okay, here goes. I  _think_. His version went something like, ' _I think he went down To the building site To see what he could see And in his mouth Was a globe so bright I wonder what could it be.'_

Reid reacted. "A building site!"

"Not like there aren't a thousand of them in Houston, Kid. This place is nothing  _but_  construction, ever since the hurricane."

The genius wasn't deterred. "All right, so then we'll profile which one. But I think JJ's right. I don't think this is just a taunt. He's bored. He wants to engage me, he wants me back in the game."

JJ agreed. "So, how do we profile this? Do we work within a radius around Orchard Hills? Do we look at his history? Although I don't remember seeing anything about construction in it."

"There wasn't." Reid had virtually memorized every file they had on Peter Lewis. "But the answer is that we profile  _him_. He's a narcissist. Everything that he's done is to gratify his own desire. He's not compulsed to hurt people. He  _wants_  to. Or, more accurately, he wants to watch  _them_  hurt. And it's a bonus if he can get them to hurt each other."

Morgan was only half way there. "Okay, I get that. But how does that help us find a particular building site? If that's even what we're looking for."

Reid spent a few moments in deep concentration, then pulled out his encrypted phone.

"Garcia, can you look for any kind of construction under way that's related to the child welfare system. Anything. Group homes, detention centers….."

"Anything for you my precious boy wonder." They all heard typing in the background, then, "Ooh. So sorry, nothing. Nada….wait!" More typing. "Okay, there's nothing residential, but there's a new center being built to house their evaluation services. It's going to provide…..let me see…..it's going to provide interviews and examinations for physical abuse and sexual abuse. Due to open in about three months."

"That's got to be it," said Reid. "He resents the way the child welfare system listened to false accusations against his father, and even enticed him to join in. It's got to be there."

Morgan was beginning to agree with his younger colleague. But there were still details to be worked out.

"So…what? You just show up there?"

JJ already had Garcia back on the phone. "Not before we get the layout. Pen, can you send us a satellite photo of the site? I suppose you wouldn't have a floor plan for the build…..oh, yes, of course you do. Silly me. Can you send that too, please?"

Then she turned back to her two male companions.

"We need to talk to Emily and others. Houston should be able to give us any additional eyes or ears we'll need for this." Addressing her next words to Reid, she added, "I know you're anxious, Spence. But we have to do this right. I'll be damned if we lose your mother. And I sure as hell am not going to risk losing you."


	12. Chapter 12

_**A.N. Someone asked about the lyrics to that nursery rhyme. When I was writing the chapter, I couldn't actually remember where the little dog had gone, so I searched the lyrics, and this is what I found:** _

**_kidsongs dot com/lyrics/where-oh-where-has-my-little-dog-gone dot html (replace the two 'dots' with actual ones, and close the spaces)_ **

_**Made no sense to me, either. Glad it did to Reid, though.** _

* * *

_**Missing** _

_**Chapter 12** _

The building looked like it had been constructed for children, thought Derek Morgan, as he cruised by it for the third time. Although made of brick, it had a homey design and feel to it, with just enough modernity to the facing to make kids feel comfortable. He wondered how he would have reacted to it, had he been brave enough to speak up about his own abuse, several decades ago.

JJ, in the passenger seat, showed him just how good a profiler she'd become, by reading his mood.

"Places like this make it easier. Not that it's ever easy. But it looks like, when it's done, it will feel like a safe place for them to tell their stories."

He nodded. "There's a lot of good that has to come out of a place like this. Which makes it all the more important to rid it of our evil friend."

"Amen to that." She shifted herself to look at him directly. "Truth? I'm terrified for Spence. I saw what Scratch did to those other people, how he completely ruined their lives. I even… Derek, be honest with me. Did you see a change in Hotch after he was attacked by Scratch?"

Morgan took his eyes from the road long enough to shoot a glance her way. "Did you?"

JJ nodded slowly. "Yes. I mean, right after, yes, of course. But, I don't know….there was something off with him after that. Something just a little more timid, or careful."

"Nothing wrong with being careful, JJ."

"No, of course not. But…I feel like he held back sometimes. Like he held  _us_  back. Or maybe just that he wanted to."

"Hmm. Okay, I'll be straight with you. I think maybe you're right about that. About him not being as aggressive in the field, I mean. But I don't think it changed how we operated. We were too experienced a team, and he….whatever he was thinking…he let us do our thing the way we knew best how to do it."

JJ wasn't quite placated. "I guess. It's just….if Scratch could change Hotch like that…..what could he do to Spence?"

* * *

Garcia had told them the building would be ready in three months. A little more snooping revealed that much of the interior was complete, and the power already activated.

"It looks like the finish work is a weekday operation, though. They won't have their staffing in place for another month or so after it's ready, so they're not fast-tracking anything."

"What time do they close up shop for the day, Baby Girl?"

"Five. Which isn't to say there's not someone there later, but the main operation shuts down then."

"Is there security on site?"

"Uh-uh. Cameras. They feed to a central bank that oversees all of the government construction sites."

Morgan looked over at Reid. "So, what do you think? Do we wait until the weekend? It's a day away."

Reid was adamant. "You saw how frightened she was. How thin. I can't just leave her with him until it's convenient. I have to go tonight."

"All right, all right. Stay cool. I thought you'd say that, and I get it. I would do the same thing. Just remember that Scratch is actually the one setting the timetable here. He'll let it move forward when he's good and ready."

Reid shook his head, muttering to himself. "He has to be ready now. She can't take much more."

JJ emerged from the bedroom, where she'd been on the phone with her husband.

"No more word from Scratch. I went over that nursery rhyme with Will, and he even called his cousin to make sure he remembered it right. He confirms that the words are 'building site'."

Morgan reminded them of the big unknown. "Now we have to hope that we've profiled to the  _right_  building site."

A thought occurred to Reid. "Maybe if we signal him that I'm coming tonight, maybe we can prod him into working on  _our_  schedule, and not his."

"How would we do that?" asked a skeptical JJ.

"He's still monitoring the phones of the rest of the team. Have someone use a non-encrypted phone to call the construction company. He'll know we've figured out the location, and he'll assume I'm coming for him."

Morgan followed him. "And he'll assume you're coming tonight, because you've obviously seen those photos of your mother. This is beginning to feel like a chess game, Pretty Boy. He makes a move and anticipates yours, and you do the same."

"There's a difference, though. Only one of us learned chess from a master."

* * *

There would be a limit to 'keeping eyes' on Reid. With the interior walls already in place, they were reliant on the security cameras to give them visual on their colleague. Garcia had been able to hack the feed, but there would still be an inherent delay in the team reaching Reid, should Scratch go after him.

"I'll be all right. The filters should give me time."

JJ and Morgan each had fitted masks to protect them from inhaling anything Scratch might have to offer. Once the man showed himself, they would enter the building to assist Reid, each carrying an additional mask, for Reid and Diana, should they be necessary.

"Just….keep your eyes open, okay? He's not going to give you a chance to position yourself. He'll come at you whenever and wherever he thinks your guard is down."

No matter that Reid wouldn't be alone for long, JJ couldn't shake a nagging sense of dread.

Reid sensed it in her tone, and sought to assure her.

"Then I just won't let my guard down."

_Simple. Right._

* * *

Hours later, Reid approached the building under cover of darkness, stopping on and off to take a few deep, calming breaths. It was important that he move slowly and deliberately, despite his anxiety for his mother. It wasn't just Scratch. It was the near certainty that the man had left her alone with her demons for all of this time. Reid had seen the look of mortal terror on his mother's face before, and the image had stayed with him for the whole of his life. Whatever it cost him, he couldn't leave her to that fate. He  _had_  to succeed.

The last of the construction crew hadn't left the grounds until nearly six, considerably later than anticipated. Monitoring the security feed, Garcia had reported no obvious activity inside or outside the building since then. If Scratch was inside, he'd either secreted himself there for much of the day, or he'd managed another port of entry.

"Or he just put on some coveralls and a hat, and walked in like the others," observed JJ. "But, then, how would he have gotten Diana in there?"

Morgan frowned. "There aren't cameras everywhere. He could have her stashed someplace. But I don't like to think about how he might have kept her quiet."

JJ agreed. "And he would have had to know for sure that none of the other workers would go into that part of the building."

Morgan pulled out his encrypted phone and called Garcia again. "Hey, Mama. Do me a favor and see if you can scare up a work schedule. Something that specifies what part of the building they're working on, and when. We want to know if there's a part that no one would be in this week."

"You think she's there? But I thought Reid was going...…"

"He is. But we think Scratch may have been keeping her on site all week. That would have to be somewhere he thought no one would find her."

JJ had another thought. "Pen, can you do something else, too? Can you look at the security footage for last night? Maybe he couldn't count on keeping her hidden for a week. Maybe he only brought her last night. He could probably keep her sedated that long."

"Good thought," encouraged Morgan. "Baby Girl, get back to us when you have something."

"You know I will. You just plan on making your Baby Girl happy by keeping her baby genius safe."

"Ditto."

* * *

As Garcia knew, Reid had a plan. He was convinced that Scratch would stage his little psychodrama in the space where forensic interviews were conducted.

' _He would see it as fitting, that he should battle the FBI in the setting where he was manipulated into betraying his father',_  he'd explained to the tech analyst. He'd had her send him a detailed floor plan for that area of the building, including sites of entrance and egress.

Like most such contemporary venues, this one had a one-sided mirror that provided visual access from an observation room. Reid thought it likely that Scratch would be in the observation space, prepared to watch…and try to sabotage….the family reunion taking place in the interview room, where he would have placed Diana.

It might have seemed natural, then, that Reid would plan to forego the interview room, and head straight to the observation space, to disarm Scratch before attempting to save his mother. But there was nothing natural in this battle of wits between two genius minds. It was, truly, like a chess game, with each familiarizing himself with the layout of the board, and then planning his own moves based on the anticipated moves of his opponent, three, four and even ten sets of parries into the game.

In the end, it would all come down to chance. There was a fifty percent chance that he would choose the right room, and the right trail of psychopathy in the brain of Peter Lewis. Reid made his choice based on his own likelihood of remaining conscious long enough to help his mother. There would be nothing for Scratch to watch if his puppets were unable to participate in the drama. So there was probably clean air in the observation room, and it would remain clean for at least long enough for Scratch to be gratified. With that in mind, Reid headed to the observation room.

The interior of the building was lit only by the glow of the overhead 'exit' signs at the ends of the corridors. As Reid moved from the windowed lobby, he took a few minutes to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

A block away, Emily, Rossi, Tara and Luke watched via the security camera feed, courtesy of Penelope Garcia. It had been switched to infrared mode, as happened each evening, when the last work crew left. The team transmitted word of Reid's progress to Morgan and JJ, parked directly across the street from the building. Once inside, the genius profiler had gone to radio silence.

"Reid is the only thing we see moving in the building," relayed Emily.

Morgan didn't like it. "Then Scratch has to be in somewhere that doesn't have a camera. He's not playing the game the way Reid thought he would."

"It's all right," assured Rossi. "As long as Reid is on camera, we'll see if Scratch makes a move. Be patient."

The senior profiler watched as his most junior colleague crept down the hallway at a snail's pace, stopping every so often, apparently listening intently. Then, finally, he was at the door to the interview room. By design, the door had no lock, so the frightened children telling the stories of their victimization would not feel trapped. Reid stopped at the entrance, took one more deep breath, and pushed it open.

Suddenly, the lighted signs over the exits were extinguished, and the hallway was plunged into total darkness. There were no exterior windows. Reid was completely unable to see.

"OMG! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" came from Quantico.

"Goddamn it!" In stereo, from multiple voices in the van.

"What happened? Emily? Pen? What is it? Did something happen to Spence?" JJ and Morgan were dependent on the others for news of Reid.

Emily answered. "Get in there, both of you! We'll be right behind. The lights went out….and the cameras were switched off infrared. Everything's dark!"

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_  JJ berated herself, and the entire rest of the team, as she ran full speed toward the construction site.  _It's what he did at Quantico! We should have known!_

Morgan was a few yards behind her. "JJ!" When she didn't slow down, he called out again, "Blondie, stop!"

She reacted to the imperative tone of his voice, and despite her desperation to get to Reid, she obeyed her senior colleague.

Morgan caught up to her with a handful of masks, handing her two of them.

"Put one on, and carry the other. It won't do him any good if we go down, too."

Chagrined at the lapse, JJ put on her mask and followed Morgan across the parking lot, and into the building.

* * *

Completely blinded, Reid had to hope his other senses would come to his aid. He positioned himself sideways in the doorway, hoping to localize any sound as coming from either within the enclosed interview room, or from elsewhere. He quickly dismissed the idea of calling out to his mother. If she were conscious, she would have made some sound by now.

If he'd been certain the others were coming, he might have decided to wait in place. But he had no idea the security feed had been compromised, and he didn't realize his colleagues could no longer watch him, nor his enemy. He simply saw the move by Scratch as an attempt to check him, and he wasn't about to give his opponent the chance to win the game. If Scratch wouldn't make the next move, Reid would.

He was still strategizing when suddenly his hallway ear detected a slight thud. He'd reflexively turned his head in that direction, when he sensed a presence on the opposite side, and he whipped his head back. With his nasal filters in place, he felt the drug-laden spray before he smelled it.

From the darkness, heard a whispered taunt.

"Maybe you  _weren't_  always the smartest boy in the class."

Reid tried to use his hearing to judge the distance between himself and Peter Lewis. The spray had been at close range, but the voice sounded like it was a few yards away. Could he tackle Lewis, and render him helpless? Despite the weapon in his hand, he knew he couldn't shoot. He had no way to know if his mother was between the two of them. Maybe if he could keep Scratch talking, he could get a better sense.

"I only have to be the smartest one in  _this_  room. That's not much of a challenge."

"Really, Agent Reid? Which of us came unprepared for the dark?"

This time, Reid picked up on the muffled tone, and realized Lewis must be wearing a mask.

_And infrared goggles._

The BAU genius judged the felon to have moved closer, but not quite within reach. So Reid moved a foot forward, and then another…..and then felt wetness on his skin once again. He'd walked into a cloud of toxic hallucinogen.

_He must have sprayed while he was talking….and I was too focused on his voice to notice. I need to….need to...need….._

* * *

A hushed conference in the lobby area led JJ and Morgan to conclude that they would leave the place in darkness. They assumed Scratch was wearing infrared, and they might be able to gain advantage by blinding him with their flashlights. Garcia might have been able to override whatever Scratch had done to the lighting, but turning it on now would allow their enemy to accommodate, and put all of them on even footing.

"But that means that Spence can't see, either!" JJ had argued.

"It's been too long already, JJ. We have to assume that Scratch has gotten to him. The best thing we can do for Reid now is to keep our upper hand."

Disheartened to hear Morgan voice exactly what she feared, JJ conceded. They each used a sleeve to dim the glow from their hand-held flashlights, and headed down the hall in tandem, and then Morgan indicated that she should stop at the door to the interview room, while he continued on to the observation space. He shared Reid's assumption that Scratch would want a front row seat for the psychological carnage he would impose.

JJ stood in place, waiting for Morgan to be situated, praying, hoping, and praying again, for Reid to be safe.

_All right, alive. I'll settle for alive. Please, please, please, let him be alive. And Diana, too. God, please don't let him have hurt her. He won't survive that._

She looked over at Morgan, barely visible in the almost total darkness. They would each enter their respective rooms with flashlights on full, hoping to catch Scratch unprepared. JJ watched as her friend held his hand in the glow from his light and gave a silent, five-fingered countdown. And then she burst through the door, and into the interview room, her flashlight sweeping quickly back and forth. At eye level, the room seemed empty. Then she swept the floor with her beam of light.

_Oh, my God._

* * *

She raced to him, dropping her light to the floor beside him. His face was bloodied, his nostrils flaring, the useless filters flapping back and forth with each heaved breath. JJ pulled off her own mask, preparing to help him breathe.

"Spence!" She tried to turn him. "Morgan! Morgan, help me!"

Unexpectedly, Reid's eyes fluttered open at the sound of her voice, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank God! Spence, are you hurt? Can you sit up?"

He nodded, wiping ineffectually at his face, brushing the filters away, as he allowed her to help him sit.

Then he looked at her.  _Really_  looked.

"JJ", he said, his hand reaching out. Then it wrapped around her throat, and the other one joined it, and together they tried to squeeze the life from his beloved best friend.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Missing** _

_**Chapter 13** _

Derek Morgan heard his colleague's cries from the other room. In nearly any other circumstance, he would have run to her. But not in  _this_  circumstance.

Not when he had his target in his cross-hairs. Peter Lewis, the diabolical Mr. Scratch, stood across the room from the former profiler, fingers frantically trying to find the straps of his infrared glasses. He had, as hoped, been blinded by the light of Morgan's flashlight.

"Freeze! Leave it alone! Get on the ground and put your hands behind your back!"

"I can't see!"

But Morgan could. Apart from the unsub, the room was empty, and Scratch carried no visible weapons. If JJ was calling for help, it must be that Diana, or Reid, or both of them, were hurt. He used his radio to alert the others, keeping his gun trained on Scratch.

"Send an ambulance. Either Reid or his mom must be injured. JJ called for help, but I can't get to her. Wouldn't want our friend here to get lonely. Oh, and have Garcia light up the place, will you?"

He heard Emily's voice in response. "Do you have him in custody?", even as the lighting came on throughout the building. Scratch let out a new howl at the increased brightness.

"He's about to be." To the still-standing Peter Lewis, he shouted, "I said, 'get on the ground! Do it now!"

The man cackled his response. "Poor Derek. Not used to not getting your way?"

Morgan didn't know what to make of that.  _He_  was the one with the weapon. Why did it sound like Lewis thought  _he_ had the upper hand?

"Get down, I said!" Moving toward him, prepared to shove him to the floor. As he drew nearer, Lewis seemed to reconsider.

"All right, all right. No need to go all muscle man on me." Slowly, he knelt, and then stretched himself dutifully prostrate on the floor, pulling the goggles off as he lifted his arms past his head. "After all," he said, looking back at Morgan, "it's not like you'll have time to arrest me. I am not made for prison, my friend. I am made for greater things."

Looks of puzzlement and anger mingled on Morgan's face as he watched Scratch give him a toothy grin, into which his tongue inserted a small capsule. Before Morgan could react, Scratch bit down on the capsule, releasing the scent of bitter almonds into the air.

Morgan dropped his weapon and knelt on Scratch's back, turning his head and forcing his mouth open. He tore off part of his tee and used it to try to sweep the capsule out of the unsub's oral cavity, but even as he did so, he knew his effort would be futile. He'd seen the capsule break. The deadly poison had already been absorbed.

"Goddamn it! God damn  _you_!" Morgan screamed in frustration, watching as his captive's lips turned color, and his skin began to go dusky. Lewis gasped for air, his fingers scratching at nothing, a reflexive attempt to hold on to life. And then all movement stopped, and all sound, and Scratch's eyes stayed open, his features frozen in a rictus of horror.

_Good. I hope you saw what was waiting for you._

Taking no chances, Morgan cuffed him anyway, and left him there. His friends needed him.

* * *

Despite the knowledge that their enemy was dead, Morgan's training dictated that he should burst into the observation room, weapon held straight out before him, prepared for battle. When he did so, his eyes took in a sight that told him that the battle being fought inside that room wouldn't be won with a gun.

JJ lay on the floor beside Reid, who lay curled in upon himself, in nearly a fetal position. As Morgan approached, he saw JJ reach out to their friend, caressing his cheek.

"Blondie?"

She looked over to Morgan, and now he could see the tears running down her face.

_Oh, no! Dear God, no. Please, no!_

By some miracle, Morgan found his voice. "Is he…"

"He's in shock, I think. I can't tell if he can even hear me."

_All right. We can work with shock. Thank You._

Although she hadn't asked, he told her. "Scratch is dead. Cyanide capsule. He killed himself."

JJ nodded distractedly, as though the information had been incidental, and not crucial. Neither of them had yet calculated the implications of Diana not being in either room. But, if Scratch was gone, his death might well have consigned Diana Reid to her fate.

Morgan started to approach his friends, but JJ waved him off. Instinctively, she knew it would be worse if they crowded Reid. She brought her head down to be parallel with his once again and called to him.

"Spence….please, look at me. Please! It's JJ. Scratch is gone. He's dead. He can't hurt you anymore. He can't hurt your mother."

Immediately, she and Morgan followed the logic, and Morgan reacted to it. "I'll look around. Stay with him. The others will be here any minute."

JJ nodded, and bent to her task once again. This time she shook her best friend by the shoulder, and shouted into his ear.

"Spence!"

His eyes blew wide in dazed confusion, staring without focus at the person beside him. Finally, he seemed to process a thought, and began fighting to sit up. As she reached out to help him, her fingers brushed through the wetness on his cheeks, and her eyes took in the look of deep anguish on his face. And then the anguish was supplanted by a look of disbelief, as he stared at her once again. For the first time, he seemed to recognize her.

"JJ? JJ! Is this real? Is this  _real_? Are you real?"

His hands grabbed at her ineffectually, coming away with air, as though he had no real control of them.

"I'm real. This is real. You're safe. Morgan took care of him. He's dead. Scratch is dead!"

Her words seemed to mean nothing to him. His hands reached out again, and this time caught her cheeks.

"Is this real? How can I know if it's real?"

Pleading, begging. She'd never seen him like this before, and her heart broke at the tone of despair in his voice.

"Spence, it's me. It's JJ. I'm real, and so are you. And Scratch is out of our lives, for good."

She watched as he struggled to process her words.  _Really_  struggled, clearly still unable to bring his brain entirely out of its drug-induced fog. Her heart broke at the look of confused helplessness on the face of her genius best friend.

"Spence?"

He began speaking softly, to himself, as though unaware she was there.

"It's real? I didn't hurt her? Oh, God, please. But how can I know? How can I know what's real? Please, please….. Maybe I …please God, no. Is he just trying to torture me more? How can I know? How…..I can't give in to it….to  _him_. Oh, please…." He moaned.

Tears rushed to her eyes, hearing her best friend ramble pathetically, sounding nearly incoherent. Or maybe not. They'd known Scratch might go this route, that he might delude Reid into thinking he'd hurt Diana, or even killed her. JJ tried to assure him.

"She's not even here, Spence! You mother's not even here. You didn't hurt her!"

Her voice drew him to stare at her, as her words gradually took shape in his mind.

"Not  _her_. Not my mother." His hands reached out for JJ again, this time to the open collar of her shirt, and she didn't know what to make of it. But it was Spence, and she trusted him, and so she let him do whatever it was he needed to do.

His long fingers snaked in and separated the fabric at her neckline, pulling it apart. Then he pushed it to one side and then the other, back and forth, back and forth, more and more frantically…and then he stopped, and hung his head, and cried.

"Spence, what? What is it?" She reached under and lifted his chin. "What were you looking for?"

He looked at her now, relief and gratitude shining through tears.

"Bruises. I was looking for bruises. He didn't make me think I'd hurt my mother. He made me think I'd hurt  _you_. He made me _kill_  you. JJ, I  _killed_  you!"

JJ's hand went involuntarily to her throat. "Spence…"

"Cuff me. Do it! I can't be sure that it won't happen again. Please, cuff me!"

"Spence, it didn't happen at all! You didn't do anything! It was all in your mind."

To her consternation, he grew more agitated. "Please! Please, I don't…..I can't….please, JJ. I watched you die! Please!"

He begged her, terrified of what he might do to her. They were both weeping by the time she gave in.

"All right. I'll do it. But tell me the very second you want them off. Spence, I wish I could make you believe me." She wiped at her eyes. "Give me your hand."

"Behind me. I need them behind me."

If Peter Lewis had still been alive, he wouldn't have survived Jennifer Jareau for what he'd done to her dearest friend. She was unsuccessful in suppressing an angry sob as she gave in to Reid's demand.

"Okay. Okay. Put….put your hands behind your back."

That he obeyed her so willingly, even eagerly, nearly broke her completely. But she managed to hold on to just enough of her composure to complete the task.

"Thank you."

She was still shaking her head at that when she heard footsteps in the hallway, followed by Emily and Rossi entering the room. The two senior profilers took in the scene with an amalgam of confusion and consternation.

"What is this?" demanded their unit chief.

At this point, Reid was the calmer of the two. "I made her do it. I was afraid I would hurt her."

Of the two new arrivals, Rossi was far more familiar with the effect an encounter with Scratch could have on someone, having seen it first hand, and in the haunted eyes of an old friend. He read the situation immediately, and approached Reid.

"Let's get you outside. A little fresh air might help you get rid of the foulness."

He lifted his young colleague by the arms, turning to JJ as they passed her.

"He'll be all right. The EMTs should have been right behind us. They'll monitor him until it wears off. It's not permanent. Do you hear me? It's not permanent."

JJ nodded silently, as Emily approached and reached an arm around her.

"Can you talk? Tell me what happened."

JJ went through the events of the past ten minutes.

_Ten minutes? Is that all it takes to ruin a life?_

"And then he begged me to put the handcuffs on him. He  _begged_  me, Emily. He was convinced he would hurt me."

The unit chief had gotten a crash course in Mr. Scratch from David Rossi, including his suspicions about what might really have happened to Aaron Hotchner.

"He drugs people and leaves hypnotic suggestions in their heads. That's all it is, JJ. He'll come out of it."

"He has an eidetic memory, Em. Once he sees something, he  _can't_  forget it, even if it was never real to begin with."

Her junior colleague had a point. "Well…..we'll just have to help him replace it with a better memory."

_As if._

* * *

Morgan reported to the lobby of the building, where the team and the police were gathered.

"I've been over this entire place, from top to bottom. She's not here."


	14. Chapter 14

_**Missing** _

_**Chapter 14** _

They'd searched the building a second time, opening every door, looking into every room, and closet, and storage space large enough to hold a human body. No sign of Diana Reid.

Emily went out to break the news to her beleagured team member, still being observed by the EMTs. He'd refused to leave the scene, and was seated at the rear of an open ambulance, JJ immediately beside him. His hands were still cuffed behind his back, and yet, almost pathetically, they were both wrapped around one of JJ's hands. The two young profilers looked up as they sensed Emily's approach, with Morgan just behind her.

"He won't let me take them off." JJ was still distressed by it.

Morgan addressed his words to Reid. "It's time to come out of it now, brother. We've got work to do. And besides….I taught Blondie here hand-to-hand. I'm pretty sure she can take you. In fact, I can guarantee it."

It was meant as a humorous appeal to logic. Reid might not have appreciated the humor, but the logic penetrated better than any assurance the EMTs or JJ had been able to give, better than the words of Prentiss and Rossi. Something about it resonated with Reid.

_JJ would never just willingly submit to a lethal attack._   _She might hesitate for a second, because she loves me. But now that she knows I might be dangerous, she'll be wary. She'll be able to keep herself safe._

From the looks on the faces of his friends, he realized that he must have said some of it aloud.

"Don't. I'm just….I'm having trouble separating the delusion from reality."

" _This_  is reality, Pretty Boy. You're  _here_ , JJ's okay, and Scratch is dead."

Reid seemed to ponder the words for a few seconds, and then looked over to JJ once again.

"All right. You can take them off."

JJ closed her eyes in relief. "Thank God." She stood, and indicated that Reid should do the same. He turned his back to her, so that she could key the handcuffs open. When she had removed them, JJ turned him back around, catching his eyes with hers, drawing him into that space he'd never learned to resist. That, more than anything, told him where his reality lay, and he pulled her into an embrace. For a long moment, they held one another, each traumatized in a different way, each seeking comfort from the well of friendship.

Emily and Morgan shared smiles of relief at the first sign of Reid's recovery. But they exchanged wary glances when he broke off from JJ and asked, "Where's my mom?"

Emily answered him. "Spencer, she's not here." At his look of alarm, she added, "That could be a good thing. He couldn't be certain you'd show up tonight. He wouldn't have wanted to transport her here, only to have to take her back out, before the workers return."

Even a drug-addled Reid could see that she was reaching. What she'd described was entirely unlikely. What was far more likely, was that Scratch hadn't brought Diana to the building because Diana was dead.

Reid's chin fell to his chest in defeat. He'd lost his mother. And maybe his mind.

* * *

It took a few more hours, and six cups of coffee, before Reid was fully himself once again. With Scratch out of the picture, there had been no further need of pretense, so he'd followed Emily's strict instruction to check into their hotel and get some rest. Morgan had stayed with him, while JJ and Rossi went back to the apartment they no longer needed, to collect their things.

"How are you holding up?" Rossi asked his traveling companion.

JJ heaved a sigh. "I'm fine. Just somebody please convince Spence of that."

Rossi glanced over from the driver's seat. "Are you?" Remembering how he'd felt at seeing Aaron Hotchner so uncharacteristically vulnerable after his encounter with Scratch. The haunted look on Hotch's face had haunted  _Rossi_ for days.

"All right, maybe I'm not so fine." She looked out the window, shaking her head. "He was so…." Her hands rose and covered her face. "…..I don't even know what to call it. He was convinced he'd strangled me, at the same time that he was telling me about it. He was just beside himself."

Rossi nodded. "I'd say that's a good way to put it. We know how masterful Scratch was with the power of suggestion, augmented with a good dose of hallucinogen. He made his victims kill the people they loved, somehow. Maybe he made them think they were killing someone else. Maybe it was someone else's face they saw when they did it. The hallucinogen could make that happen."

"But Spence saw himself killing  _me_! It was  _my_  face he was looking at. That's why he was so upset. But, how could Scratch delude him into wanting to kill me?"

Rossi thought it over for a mile or two. "I don't think he did. Reid didn't try to do anything to you once you found him, did he?"

"No, but he was afraid he would. That's why he insisted on the handcuffs."

Rossi nodded. "I would have done the same. He was assuming Scratch had given him the same kind of suggestion he'd given to the other victims. But our evil friend didn't always operate that way."

"What do you mean?"

Rossi realized he was about to reveal something his companion might not already know. But he'd never been asked to keep his thoughts to himself.

"Sometimes, he just suggested a scenario to his victim. Something that would hurt them, leave them scarred. And he would wait patiently while he watched them live through it."

JJ thought for a moment. "I don't remember that with any of our….oh.  _Oh._  You're saying….. did he tell you that?"

Rossi shook his head. "He didn't have to. I'd never seen him so shaken. There was no one else there, except Scratch and the psychologist, and it was obvious she'd taken her own life. He never shared any of it with me, but I saw enough of the harrowed look in his eyes to know that Hotch had been through something. It had to have been something in his mind."

JJ closed her eyes again. "Please God, don't let this stay with Spence. He already carries so many burdens. And now, to lose his mom…."

"She's not lost yet. I believe that, and I want you to believe it, too. We need to surround Spencer with hope about this. Trust me, I'm a realist. I know that we're up against the clock. But I truly believe Scratch didn't kill her. If he had, he'd have wanted to watch Reid react to it."

Rossi's argument was convincing. For the first time since she'd found Reid weeping on the floor of the future advocacy center, JJ felt a flicker of hope. If Diana was still alive, maybe they could still save her.

_And maybe we can save Spence._

* * *

By the time they returned, Reid and Morgan had joined the others at the FBI office in Houston. Tara and Luke had teamed with Garcia to try to trace Scratch's presence in the city.

"He had to have transportation. He had to eat. He had to sleep. We'll find his foul scent somewhere, my friend." Luke did his best to be comforting to Reid.

"What does Pen say?" asked JJ.

Tara responded. "She's searched every name she and we can think of, every combination of his names, and our names….nothing."

Reid's sixth cup of coffee was kicking in. "Can't she search by item? Can't she look for a name that's accessed transportation, housing and food, all in the past three days?"

Morgan wasn't convinced. "Pretty Boy, that will give us every member of every group that's sponsored a meeting in Houston this week."

Emily agreed. "We need something more specific."

"Like what?" asked Luke.

The answer came from JJ. "The drugs."

Reid's eyes narrowed. "He can't buy the hallucinogen legally anywhere. But he can get the scopolamine over the counter."

"He can?" Morgan sounded skeptical.

"Yes," asserted Reid. "But only in a patch. He could have extracted it from there. But if he wanted it in quantity, he'd probably have gotten it in Mexico."

Rossi caught the last few words. "Sorry, I had to make a call. What's this about Mexico?"

Emily apprised him. "We're trying to figure out where Scratch got his drugs. Garcia hasn't had any luck tracing him through any other purchases."

"Hmm." Turning to Reid. "Is there anything your mother might need? Special foods, medication?"

"Nothing he could get without a prescription." Pausing. "Assuming he even cared."

JJ had taken Rossi's advice to heart. She would assume that Diana was still alive, and try to instill some hope back into her best friend.

"Maybe we can have Garcia follow those meds. Any prescriptions filled in the past week, any prescription pads gone missing, anything."

Emily agreed. "All right, go ahead and get her started on it. Anyone else have anything?"

Tara spoke up. "I'd like to have Reid look at the tapes from Orchard Hills again. Now that he's seen Scratch, maybe he'll be able to identify him on screen."

Reid shook his head, forlorn. "I don't remember him at all. I'm not even sure I saw him."

Tara wasn't dissuaded. "You don't  _consciously_  remember him. But your subconscious might tell us something."

It was better than nothing, and 'nothing' was all they had at the moment. So Reid agreed to look at the tapes once again, bringing along the fresh eyes of Derek Morgan. JJ accompanied them to Orchard Hills, as did Tara. The forensic psychologist was prepared to use hypnosis to help Reid remember, should it be necessary.

Emily and Luke stayed behind to run down any leads provided by Garcia's new searches. '

David Rossi apologetically begged off. He had an important errand to run.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Missing** _

_**Chapter 15** _

A few miles away from the site of Scratch's demise, Tara Lewis asked Morgan to pull over to the side of the road.

"You all right?" Doing as she'd asked, despite not understanding.

"I'm fine. There was just something we couldn't talk about with the police and EMTs around." She shifted to include the two back seat colleagues in her field of vision. "The recordings were procured for us by Garcia. It's possible Orchard Hills doesn't know that we have them. Likely, actually."

Morgan grinned. "That's my Baby Girl. Okay, so where are they?"

Tara tapped the tablet resting on her lap. "Right here. Spencer, you should look at them now. If it still makes sense to go to Orchard Hills afterward, then we'll go. If not, we'll plan accordingly."

When Reid agreed, JJ suggested they move into a park she remembered seeing two days ago.

"It will give us some privacy."  _And it might help Spence calm down a little bit._  As the effects of the drugs waned, Reid's anxiety was increasing, visible in the tapping of his leg and the twiddling of his fingers.

She directed Morgan to the park, and they found a shaded picnic area. Tara placed the tablet on the picnic table and indicated that the others should sit beside Reid.

"Luke and I watched these recordings, and Emily took a look as well. But none of us have met your mother, Spencer, and all of the rest of you were in hiding. Garcia is the only one who's seen these and also really knows what your mother looks like, and she didn't recognize her. Maybe one of you will have better luck."

"I hope so," whispered Reid.

Tara prepared him. "Remember that she might have been disguised. You're looking for a body habitus, a characteristic gait, the way she holds her arms when she walks, something like that. All right?"

He nodded, and she began the recording. All three of them saw the same things the others had. The patient population at Orchard Hills was small, so there wasn't an overwhelming amount of activity on the recording, and they were able to view it at a higher speed. People moved about, some wearing scrubs, some street clothes, some robes. Occasionally someone would be admitted through the main entrance door, and approach the desk, apparently signing in. Reid kept a vigilant eye on whether those same people also signed out. A few seemed to sign out accompanied by an additional person, probably a patient. Each time that happened, they slowed the recording, the better to assess the physical patterns of movement of the people involved. When they came to the end of the recordings, the three viewing profilers sat back, disappointed.

"She's not there." Reid was completely disheartened. "I have no way to find her. I took her from a place where she was safe, and put her here, practically right into his hands."

"Spence, please don't. You were only trying to get her the best care possible. You couldn't have predicted this."

"Yeah, come on, Pretty Boy. This isn't your fault. And it's not over. We know he signed her out, don't we?"

"But we never saw her leave," said Tara.

Reid's head shot up at that. "We never saw her leave!"

JJ made eye contact with the others. "You think she's still there? Wouldn't they have searched the building?"

Morgan responded. "Not if they thought she'd been signed out. All right, that's better, Kid. You're thinking. What else have you got?" Relieved to see a spark in his younger friend's eyes.

"We need to look at this again. But we've been looking at the wrong people. We've been assuming he somehow impersonated me and absconded with her. But what if he was impersonating a staff member? What if he just signed her out so no one would look for her?"

"Or what if he  _was_  a staff member?" posed Tara. "There's a lot of turnover in these kinds of places. He could easily have come in as an orderly, or even with housekeeping or maintenance."

Morgan was on board with it. "Hold up a second." He pulled out his phone and tapped a number.

"Dispenser of all wisdom here. Except about those meds. I can't find anything like that particular combination that Mrs. Reid needs. Nothing was filled at any pharmacy within a fifty-mile radius."

"That's okay, Baby Girl. I've got something else for you. Two things, actually. Can you get us a list of male employees at Orchard Hills, hired within the past two months? We think he might have worked there. But first, see if you can wave your magic wand and find me a floor plan for Orchard Hills. I need the full layout, including the basement. Include the grounds, too."

"Ooh! Do you think…! Oh, my God, is Reid there? Is he with you? How is he, my poor sweet boo?"

"I'm right here, Garcia. And I'm okay. But time is…"

"Critical! Right! I'm on it. Over and out."

Tara started the recording again, standing behind Reid this time, so she could assist in the search for Scratch. Reid watched intently, barely blinking, his eyes focused on a single corner of the screen.

"There!" He waved his index finger at the tablet. "Can we back it up?"

He started to do it himself, but his hand wouldn't stop shaking. JJ, seeing, lifted his hand away with one of hers, and held it. She used her other to reverse the image.

"How far?"

"Go slowly. Just…no….there!"

"I don't see anything, Kid."

"What are we looking for?" asked Tara.

"There! The clipboard. It's sitting on the desk, and then… can you go forward again?"

JJ did.

"There. It's lifted up, and then replaced. But you can only see the hand that's moving it, because the person is standing outside the reach of the camera."

All four watched again, and this time, it was obvious.

"He must have known exactly what the camera could see," observed Tara.

"Do we know where the feed goes?" asked Reid.

JJ did. "They've got one security officer on site. He does a little patrolling, but he mostly monitors the cameras."

"So, Scratch must have befriended him, spent some time in the office," posed Tara. "Unless he was part of the housekeeping crew. That would give him access to everything."

"Except the med room," said Reid. "It's crazy, but I almost wish he  _had_  access to the med room. At least then there would be a possibility that he'd given my mom her meds."

He'd already told JJ how frightened he was that his mother would have been left alone with her dementia and her dementors. She squeezed the hand she was holding, in support.

"We'll get her soon, Spence. Whatever she's going through, it will end soon."

Morgan had been playing with the scenes before and after the one that had gotten Reid's interest. Now it was  _his_  voice that held excitement.

"There he is! I knew he couldn't have avoided the camera forever! I took that little bastard out of his rat hole the night he attacked Hotch. I recognize his slimy shuffle. Look, how he's hunched over, like the little knibbling rat that he was."

They all watched the screen, looking at the man whose evil had wreaked such havoc on the lives of three of their team and, by extension, the rest. JJ felt Reid tense again, next to her. She reached a hand around his back and rubbed it.

"We've figured it out, Spence. We'll find her now. Scratch isn't going to win this one."

He looked at her, hope and fear mingling in his eyes. Unable to speak, he simply nodded.

* * *

The staff at Orchard Hills apparently remembered their first encounter with the insistent SSA Jennifer Jareau. They granted entry immediately upon seeing her badge, and she led the FBI contingent to the office of the memory facility's director, Sharon Grant.

"Agent Jareau? Has there been a development?"

JJ introduced the others, ending with Reid, who explained. "Diana Reid is my mother."

The director was immediately flummoxed, and apologetic. "Oh….oh, my….I….I'm so sorry, Dr. Reid. I…"

Morgan spoke right over her. "We need to search the building. We need access to everything, and I mean everything. You can either get us a set of keys, or send your security guard around with us."

"But.."

"We think my mother is still here. We think he signed her out, so no one would look for her, and then hid her somewhere."

"On the grounds?" The director still sounded disbelieving.

"In the building," clarified JJ. "We think she's still in this building, somewhere. And we need to find her."

Morgan spoke up again. "Our technical analyst just sent an email to you. It contains the floor plan for this building. I want you to print out four copies."

"But…"

"Ma'am," encouraged Tara, "just do it. And hurry."

Four insistent FBI agents in her office, a sense of guilt about what had happened to the mother of one of them, and the administrator didn't even think to ask for a warrant. She went to her desk, called up the email, and pulled four copies from the printer.

"There are only three sets of masters. I can accompany one of you, and I'll have Eric from security come up. Noreen is our nursing supervisor. She'll go with a third."

That was fine with Morgan, who'd been concerned about the possibility of Reid being alone when Diana was found, just in case. He set up the pairings.

"All right. Reid, JJ, you're with the nurse. Tara, you've got security. I'll stay with Ms. Grant. But I want to go over these plans first."

He and Reid took the lead in analyzing the building's layout. Between Reid's degree in engineering and Morgan's experience in rehabbing properties, they were best able to translate the various lines and notations into three-dimensional space.

The building consisted of three stories over a basement. The main floor held meeting and dining spaces, a library, a fitness room and a small gift shop. The second floor held the resident rooms, each with a private bathroom, and the home's laundry facility. The top floor served as a small infirmary for those residents who were too ill to be alone in their rooms, but not ill enough for the hospital. Each floor housed a number of utility closets and storage spaces.

Morgan's money was on the basement, which held the main heating, plumbing and electrical utilities for the facility. He thought it was most likely that Scratch had stashed Diana there, as it was probably the least visited part of the building. But he wasn't about to tell Reid that. He was worried enough about what Scratch had done to Reid with the drugs, and wasn't about to risk further damage to his dear friend's psyche. If Diana hadn't survived the machinations of Peter Lewis, Morgan wanted to be the one to find her.

They divided up, with Tara taking the infirmary level, Morgan the basement and Reid and JJ the main floor. They would split the resident level when they were finished with their first assignments. Once the security guard and the nurse had joined them, they set out.

* * *

Every space they entered brought a new wave of emotion to Reid. In the library, he pictured Diana sitting comfortably in an overstuffed chair, and he found himself searching out some of her favorite volumes on the shelves. In the common room, he saw the piano, and wondered if she'd ever enjoyed hearing one of the classical pieces she loved so much. As they went into the visiting room, a wave of guilt rose over him. He'd never even seen her in this setting.

_I uprooted her from the only home she'd known for decades, and brought her right into the hands of evil, and I never even visited her here!_

JJ turned and caught the expression on his face. Proving just how good a profiler she'd become….and how good a friend….she read him immediately.

"Oh, no, no. You are not going to do that to yourself. This was not your doing, Spence. Peter Lewis was an evil, pathetic soul. This is all on him."

Reid shook his head. "He only had access to her because I moved her. She was protected at Bennington. Here, she was all alone."

The nurse didn't quite have the full context of the conversation, but she recognized the tone.

"If I may? I've worked here at Orchard Hills for ten years. In that time, I've heard many a family member express his or her guilt over having placed a parent here. And I'll tell you what I've told each of them: 'Never regret what you do for love.' You wouldn't have placed her out of your home if you hadn't had to. You can't control the situation of your mother's dementia, Dr. Reid. But you can love her, wherever she is."

Her final words, meant to be comforting, only exacerbated Reid's sense of guilt. Realizing, JJ gave him a reassuring squeeze of his arm.

"We'll find her. I can feel it."

* * *

They  _didn't_  find her on the main floor, nor did Tara on the infirmary level. And, to his great disappointment, nor did Morgan find her in the basement. All three teams met on the residence level of the memory facility.

Director Grant cautioned them. "I know you feel you need to enter each room. Please remember that our residents are all here because they have trouble thinking. Many are frightened. Most are elderly, and quite a few have physical disabilities as well."

Tara assured her, using her most calming psychologist's tone.

"We're all trained to work with people in crisis, Ms. Grant. We'll be careful, and sensitive. But we  _do_  have to enter each room."

The director conceded. "All right. If you need assistance, there will be a 'call button' in each bedroom and bathroom. Just press it."

The first room JJ and Reid entered with Noreen was occupied by an elderly man who seemed confused by their arrival.

"Are you my son?" he asked Reid.

"Uh…no. Sorry."

The profiler made quick work of looking into the closet, under the bed, and in the bathroom, and made a swift exit.

It happened twice more, as they moved through the rooms. Some residents were sleeping, some sitting by the window and staring. JJ was confused for a daughter, and even a mother.

"Is it always like this?" she asked Noreen.

"Before they become too ill to speak, yes. Most of them are quiet, some are quite pleasant. But they're all confused."

Reid thought to ask. "Did you know my mother?"

"No, I'm sorry. I was on vacation for the short time that she was here. But I heard from some of the aides that they enjoyed talking with her."

JJ told her. "Diana was a professor of medieval literature when she was younger. She's got a thousand stories in her head."

"She sounds lovely, Dr. Reid. I hope I'll have the chance to meet her."

The final corridor they were to search was shorter than the others, as it led into the laundry area. Reid saw several aides pushing large carts of linens through the pair of automated doors.

_Large enough to hold a person, underneath all that fabric._

Running on instinct, he decided to forego the rest of the resident rooms, and headed for the doors.

"Spence?"

"This is it, I know it! It has to be!"  _Doesn't it?_  "He could have hidden her in a cart, and wheeled her right off the floor. Come on!"

All three of them ran through the doors and into the noisy laundry area. The sound of industrial washers and dryers nearly drowned out the sounds of human voice, and they had to shout to be heard. All of them realized that Diana could have been crying for help, and gone completely unnoticed.

The room was large, and square, staffed by only two people, who were both actively at work folding sheets and towels. Laundry equipment lined the two solid walls, with long folding tables taking up the center. Shelving, full of individual bins belonging to each resident, lined the wall with the doors through which they'd entered. The fourth wall held three doors, and a large laundry sink.

Reid headed like a bullet toward that wall. The first of the doors opened into a space apparently used as additional storage for paper goods, the next as storage for laundry materials. With each failure to find Diana, Reid experienced a heightening sense of doom. She  _had_ to be in that third space.

But she wasn't. The room simply held new linens, to be opened when the others had outlived their use. JJ had to bite back tears of frustration. She was anxious for Diana, and anxious for Reid, outraged at Scratch and demoralized at their lack of success.

_I can't even imagine what he's feeling._

She turned to reach out to her best friend, when her eye caught something.

"What's that?" Pointing.

Reid followed her gaze and took in what she'd seen. It was a cut out, not even a door. There was no handle, and no hinge. Just a latch at the top and the bottom. Reid ran over to it, as the others followed.

"Do you know what this is?" Asking Noreen.

The nurse shrugged. "I don't. Looks like an access panel, doesn't it? So they can get at the dryer vents, and the pipes behind the washers."

She was probably right, thought Reid, as he fiddled with the latches. Once he'd released them, he still had to pry the panel loose with his fingers. After it was opened he pulled his penlight from his pocket.

JJ grabbed at his arm. "Spence, maybe I should go first."

He threw her a grateful look, but shook his head. "Let me."

She understood. "All right, but I'm right behind you."

As he entered the space, he swung his light around, looking for a switch, or a pull of some sort, and JJ did the same. He felt it when she nudged him.

"Look."

There, several feet above their heads, was a light bulb. But the chain pull had been tied up and knotted, well beyond reach.

"He wanted her in the dark."

As maddening as the thought was, it also told them that they were in the right place. JJ turned to the nurse, who was still standing at the entrance.

"Go and get the others! She's got to be here!"

The space was deep, deep enough to soak up the relatively meager light from their tools. The two profilers had to move slowly, in tandem, ducking under pipes, stepping over vents. They went deeper, and deeper, until they both feared they would run out of space in which to find her.

And then, close to the ground…..a flash of purple.

They both caught the hint of color at the same time, and pointed their penlights in the same direction.

She was propped against the wall, lying on her side, wearing the robe Reid had given her for Christmas. Her eyes were closed, her mouth hanging open.

"Mom! Mom!" Reid lunged forward.

JJ followed him but, as she did, her light reflected off a piece of metal. She sought it out again, and realized.

"Her ankle is chained!"

Reid fell to his knees beside his mother, reliant now on illumination from JJ's penlight.

"Mom!" He shouted her name again, as his fingers reached for her neck. Anxiety dulled his other senses, and it was several long, frightful seconds before he felt a beat. And another, and another.

By now, JJ was at his side, her hand lightly on Diana's chest. She felt the gentle rise and fall.

"She's breathing. She's alive, Spence! She's alive!"

He turned watery eyes to her, and nodded. His mother was alive. Only time would tell how traumatized she'd been. But she was alive.

_You're still my mother. And I'm still your son._

.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Missing** _

_**Chapter 16** _

JJ hovered just outside Diana's hospital room, anxious for what was about to happen. As much as she wanted to be inside supporting her best friend, she'd had to agree with him that it would be best for Diana to be confronted with only one face when she regained full consciousness, that of her son.

They'd had to sedate her, back at Orchard Hills. She'd hadn't responded at all, not to the calling of her name, nor to Reid's gentle shaking of her shoulders. Her eyes had moved behind their lids when the fire department EMTs arrived and were able to turn on the light, but she hadn't opened them. Diana hadn't shown any signs of awareness beyond that, until multiple, loud male voices were joined with the sound of a bolt cutter. At that, her eyes had opened, to the sight of multiple strangers, standing tall over her. She'd tried to push to her feet, but her left leg wouldn't move. That's when she saw that it was restricted by a chain. From days long past, Reid recognized the terror in her eyes, the certainty that her long-time paranoid delusion was a delusion no more. He'd shouted assurance to her.

"Mom, it's all right, they're here to help you!"

But she hadn't been able to hear him, over her own frightened screams. She'd begun to thrash all of her limbs, to bite, and scratch, until one of the EMTs had managed to get a needle into her thigh, and sedated her.

Reid had been pulled back from tending to her, to let the EMTs in. As they'd worked on her, JJ had held on to him tightly, both of them watching as Diana's features had slackened into a drug-induced sleep.

"She'll be all right, Spence! It's a good sign that she had the energy to fight, isn't it?"

Arriving just before the medics, Morgan and Tara had done what their colleagues had been too rattled to do. This was a crime scene, after all, with a story to tell.

"He left her a bucket, but it looks like it's been emptied. And.." Morgan followed the path of his penlight into a dark corner, returning with his prize, "….a water bottle. So it looks like he kept her hydrated."

"One bottle wouldn't have kept her hydrated for even a day, let alone five. If the bucket's empty, it probably means that he's been here recently. But, if he'd let her get dehydrated, she wouldn't have needed the bucket, and it might just have stayed empty."

Morgan agreed. "There's nothing here to say one way or the other whether he fed her."

"And only the lab work will tell us if he medicated her."

Tara's words had concluded that part of the analysis shortly before the fire department managed to cut through the chain that had restrained Diana. Afterward, it had been short work to remove her from the utility space, and place her on the stretcher waiting in the laundry room. She'd been taken by ambulance to the hospital, where she'd undergone a medical evaluation and, with the pained consent of her son, had also undergone a forensic evaluation.

Reid had been sitting with his head in his hands, an attentive JJ at his side, when the doctor emerged from Diana's room. He leapt to his feet.

"Dr. Greene, how is she?"

"I think she'll be fine, Dr. Reid. Physically, that is. We won't know about her mental state until the sedative wears off completely. Her bloodwork should be ready soon as well."

"What about…."

Dr. Samantha Greene laid a reassuring hand on Reid's arm. "There's no evidence of sexual assault. Nor of physical assault, for that matter. But she does have some abrasions on the backs of her legs, as though she'd been dragged. And there's that erosion at her ankle."

Reid nodded. He'd seen it, a circumferential digging into Diana's skin by the chain that had tethered her, evidence that she'd attempted to escape her imprisonment.

Dr. Greene had one more thing to tell him.

"It sounds like she spent a long time in total darkness. It may be a while before she can tolerate much light."

"We can work with that. Can I see her?"

Dr. Greene nodded. "Of course. She was starting to stir a bit. I think we'll see her come out of sedation soon."

And so, Reid had gone in to sit beside her, and hold her hand. He wanted his to be the first, and only, face she would see, when she opened her eyes.

* * *

JJ continued pacing the hallway, until she saw Morgan and Tara return from their coffee run with the three others in tow. No,  _four_  others.

At first, she simply assumed that they were being accompanied by a detective, or someone from the Houston office. But then, something registered. Not a face, so much, because they were too far down the hallway to make out facial features. But a gait, a way of moving. One that had been intensely familiar to her for more than a decade of her life.

_Oh, my God!_

She would have run to meet them, but the corridor was too crowded with hospital personnel and equipment. So she simply stood in place, mouth agape, arms opening gradually wider as the group approached.

"Hotch!"

He was dressed much more casually than she remembered, and he'd grown out some facial hair, but there he was, in the flesh, just feet away from her, and then, in her embrace.

"I can't believe it! What…. How…?"

He returned the embrace in kind. As he pulled away, he responded to her.

"Rossi called me. He told me what happened to Reid, and to his mother. He also told me about Scratch. With Peter Lewis dead, there's no reason for me to be in hiding any longer. And I thought I might be able to help Reid."

"But how…."

Rossi stepped in. "Long story. I'll tell you some time. For now, we need to focus on helping the Kid. How is he?"

JJ wasn't quite sure how to answer that.

"Honestly, I don't know. I mean, the doctor told us his mom is basically okay, except for where she was chained. But she hasn't been awake yet, so we don't know her mental state. I think Spence is worried that she'll have completely regressed. And he feels so guilty about…."

Emily stepped in for her. "About having brought his mother to Houston, where she wasn't adequately protected."

That wasn't quite all JJ thought Reid was feeling guilty about, but there wasn't much point in telling Hotch about the hallucination he'd suffered.

_What could he possibly do about that?_

Morgan interrupted her train of thought when he offered, "Can you believe this guy drove here? He's just been over in San Antonio all this time!"

JJ turned once again to her former superior, and long time friend.

"How's Jack?"

Hotch smiled. "He's great. He'll be better now, since he'll be able to see Jessica and his grandfather again. But he's great. He's made new friends in school, and really, he's been a trouper."

JJ was moved to give her fellow parent another hug. "I'm so glad, Hotch. And, oh, my God, it's so good to see you."

"Likewise."

* * *

_She looks so restful. Almost at peace. Almost._

He'd seen her like this only a few times before, and each time he'd been in the same kind of emotional turmoil he was in now. The muscles of her face were relaxed in a way that only happened when was drugged. Even her usual mien of sleep preserved the linear furrows of her brow, the creases surrounding her frown.

_What will it be like for you when you wake up? What will it be like for me?_

She might not know him. It had happened before, both in his boyhood, and again a few months ago. What if her dual illnesses had teamed up to rob his identity from her completely? What if they had robbed  _hers_?

He sat by the bed, and took her hand into both of his, stroking the back of it.

"I'm here," he whispered to her. "We're alone. It's just the two of us, like it always was." Still stroking her hand. "We've always made a pretty formidable pair, haven't we, Mom? Just you and me, against the world."

It was what she'd always said to him, in those years they'd been alone together. Sometimes, the words had sprung from her illness, but sometimes, during her bouts with clarity, she'd been able to see how lonely he was, how different from everyone else he knew, and she would say them again, to comfort him.  _Just you and me, against the world._

"I know Dad made you feel like a failure, but you weren't, Mom. He left you with nothing but a son to raise, and…. well, here I am. I made it, because of you.  _We_ made it. Just the two of us, against the world."

It was true. He might have pretty much raised himself, but it had been  _because_  of her. She'd regaled him with tales of chivalry, and he'd become her knight. He'd convinced himself that he could be what she needed, until his burgeoning maturity had taught him otherwise.

"I'm sorry that he hurt you. I'm sorry you were frightened. I'm sorry I put you into that position in the first place. I think I was reacting to my own fear of losing you, and not even considering what you might think was best. It won't happen again, I can promise you that. You didn't raise me to put myself first, and I won't. We'll do whatever, or however much, you want to do, in fighting this. If you want to try something, we will. If you're too tired….I get it. I  _will_  get it. You've been fighting your whole life, Mom. If you need to walk away from it, I'll walk away with you. As far as I'm concerned, you've already won. You're my hero, Mom."

"My hero."

Barely a whisper, but he'd heard her. Reid's head shot up.

"Mom?"

"My son, my hero."

Her eyes were still closed, but she was definitely responding to him.

"Mom, it's Spencer. I'm with you. You're in the hospital, but you're okay."  _I hope._

Gradually, her lids fluttered open, and she blinked a few times, until she lasered in on his face.

"Spencer?"

"Yes, Mom, it's me. You're safe."

"Did…." Abruptly, she sat up in the bed. "Where is he? The bad man, where is he? He said he wanted to hurt you!"

Reid took her arms and pushed her gently back into the bed. "It's okay, Mom. He's gone. He can't hurt either of us anymore."  _Nor anyone else._

"But….am I dead? Are we  _dead_? I was in the dark place...I was being punished! But now…" Seemingly noticing the light for the first time, her eyes widening. "What is this? Is this heaven?"

_It is, to me, right now._  But Reid would have liked to kill Scratch all over again for making his mother feel like she'd been condemned.  _God help me, I wish it on you!_

Aloud, he assured her again, using his most calming voice. "No, Mom. We're in a hospital. You were in a place where there were no lights, but we found you, and you're safe. You're  _safe_."

For the next ten minutes, she continued to ramble, and he continued to assure her. She was befuddled, and frightened but not paranoid. Not delusional. Reid attributed it to her several long-acting anti-psychotics. She was just enough on edge that he was certain Scratch hadn't given her the prescription medications. But he was able to calm her again each time she became agitated, until the stress of it sapped her energy, and she fell back into a deep sleep.

Outside, JJ had been watching through the oblong window, keeping lone vigil from the hallway. The others had moved with Hotch into a small conference room, awaiting word that Reid might be ready to see him.

Once she saw Diana's eyes close, JJ stepped quietly into the room.

"Spence," she whispered, "how is she?"

"She remembers some of it, but she doesn't understand. But she knows me. In the end, that's all that really matters."

JJ squeezed his shoulders from behind. "Thank God. And how are you?"

He thought for a moment, not sure how to answer. So much had happened, in the space of just one day.  _In the space of just a few hours._  And all of it had become jumbled in his mind, just barely recovered from its own drugging. Scratch had lived, and then died. JJ had died, and then lived. And his mother….. his mother had been lost, and then found.  _And will one day be lost again._

All he could say to JJ was, "I'm exhausted. And I'm afraid to close my eyes."

She nudged him from the chair. "Remember how well I put you to sleep the other night? I have a knack for soothing nightmares, too."

"Not when they're about you."

Only the crisis of seeking and finding his mother had been able to pull his mind from the vision Scratch had implanted. Though he now understood it to be a delusion, the images wouldn't leave him.

She stopped, mid-turn, and touched his cheek. "Spence, I'm fine, and you will be, too. In fact, I think I have a surprise that will push all of those awful images from your mind. Come on down the hall with me. Your mom will be asleep for a while."

She put her hand behind his back and gave him a gentle push toward the door. "I can come back and sit with her for a while, after, so you can get a break."

"You don't have to."

"I want to. She gave me my best friend. It's the least I can do, to thank her."

She'd led him down to the conference room, where the door was closed to protect the confidential information being exchanged within. JJ gave a light knock as she turned the handle, and waved Reid in before her.

His eyes quickly ran the room, before settling on a blessedly familiar face. "Hotch!"

Just seeing the man who'd once been his superior, and was still his highly esteemed friend and mentor, rebuilt some of the foundation Reid had felt slipping away from his life. His arms opened wide in thanksgiving.

Aaron Hotchner stepped forward and into the fierce embrace of the younger man. Two such different personalities, and yet the sharing of so many life circumstances had forged a deep bond between them. Reid reached into that bond, and felt grounded. Scratch had hurt each of them, scarred them, in ways only they would ever know. But at least Reid wouldn't have to go it alone. As he pulled apart from Hotch, he whispered a plea.

"Help me."


	17. Chapter 17

_**Missing** _

_**Chapter 17** _

Pending her mental state, it looked like Diana would be able to leave the hospital the following day. Physically, apart from some mild dehydration and her superficial abrasions, she was fine. Only her son might be able to determine whether she'd returned to her psychiatric baseline.

While the others visited with their former unit chief, the current one was busy. Emily Prentiss set Garcia about the task of arranging for Diana's transfer to a memory care facility in the Washington, DC area, knowing that Reid had already researched a number of possibilities. Then she got permission to transport a civilian family member on the BAU jet. If Reid wanted to bring his mother home with him, he would be able to. The jet, and the BAU team, would stay in Houston overnight.

After a while, the conversation died down, and Morgan suggested they attend to any necessary details with the locals, before finding a place to share a celebratory meal, if Hotch would join them.

He would. But there was something he had to do first.

"Text me when you're ready, and I'll meet you there."

Already acutely aware of her best friend's turmoil, JJ picked up a tension within Hotch as well, and quickly surmised why, and how she could help.

"Guys, I'll meet you there, too. I think I'll go and sit with Mrs. Reid for a while, and let Spence catch his breath."

Reid threw her a grateful look as the others said their goodbyes.

"Let me come back with you for a minute. If she's awake, I want to get a sense of her."

So all three former and present profilers made their way back to Diana's room. While Reid went inside, Hotch and JJ watched through the window.

"I haven't seen her since the time we almost lost Elle," remarked the former unit chief. "She doesn't really look all that different, even though it's been years."

JJ explained. "Spence says her illness aged her a long time ago. Now, to him, she seems ageless."

Hotch nodded understanding as they both watched Reid take up his seat at his mother's side. He called to her, and was rewarded when she opened her eyes.

JJ gasped. "She's awake! Oh, please God, let her know him."

She wasn't aware she'd said it aloud until her old friend turned and gave her a sympathetic smile.

"Haley's father has Alzheimer's. I'm just hoping we'll get back in time for him to still recognize Jack."

"Oh, that's right, I forgot!" She rubbed his arm encouragingly. "I hope so, too."

As they watched, Diana became more alert, and began to thrash in the bed. JJ ran around Hotch to put her head into the room.

"Should I call a nurse?"

Reid looked over his shoulder at her. "No! No…sorry, no. She's just a bit anxious, but she's calming down. Right, Mom?" Turning back to the figure in the bed. "You're in the hospital, Mom, and you're okay. I'm right here with you, and…" Gesturing for JJ to join him, "…JJ's here, too. You remember her, right? She's Henry's mother. Henry's and Michael's."

Reid kept talking, using his softest and most reassuring voice, until Diana calmed. JJ stood behind him, a comforting hand on his back. When finally his mother was quiet, Reid questioned her.

"Mom, do you remember anything?"

JJ was unable to read Diana's facial expression, and hung on her words.

"Spencer, I'm your mother. Don't try to trick me with these questions. Of course I don't remember anything. Isn't that the problem?"

JJ's fingers on his back felt the tension release, as Reid chuckled at his mother's words. As painful was the truth they spoke, she was there. Whatever was left of her, was there.

"I guess you're right, Mom. You always are." He leaned in to kiss her forehead. "I'm glad you're awake. Uh….I have something I have to do. Is it all right if JJ sits with you for a while?"

He stepped back, so JJ could step up, and allow Diana to grasp her hand.

"This is…..Jennifer?"

JJ nodded, smiling. "That's right, I'm Jennifer."

"You have a little boy. Henry?" Forgetting that she'd just been told.

"I have two little boys now, Henry and Michael. I'm so glad you remember."

Diana patted the hand she held. "I remember my Spencer when he was a boy. It was a special time in my life."

JJ smiled and turned to Reid, giving him permission to leave.  _I've got this._

To Diana, she said, "Do you think you could tell me about it? I'd love to hear about when Spence was a little boy."

Reid pulled the chair over for her, and JJ sat. As he left the two women he cared about most in the world, he was a little intimidated at the idea that they would be talking about him.

_I just hope they remember that they love me._

Although, right now, he couldn't bring himself to believe that he  _was_  lovable, not after what he'd done to JJ.

_After what you thought you did,_ he corrected himself.  _It wasn't real._

It wasn't, but it didn't seem that way. His perception threatened to become his reality, and he couldn't let that happen. He had to get rid of it. He  _had_  to. He couldn't lose himself to this, and he couldn't lose one of the most cherished relationships in his life.

He left the room, and went out to Hotch, and the two men watched the two women for a few minutes. Then the older turned to the younger.

"Ready?"

Reid nodded.

"Let's talk."

* * *

They went back to the conference room, still set aside as a private space for the team of FBI profilers. Reid stood at the window, staring out, until Hotch drew his attention.

"He made you see something."

Reid turned slowly, the weight of that vision evident in his eyes.

"I can't put it out of my mind."

Hotch knew the feeling well. "That's because, even though the delusion isn't real, your fear is. That's how he operates with us. He feeds on our fears." Hotch pulled out a chair, and invited Reid to do the same. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

"Want to? No. But I need to, right?"

The younger man sat, and leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands wringing between them.

"They told you about the building, where we thought he had my mother?" When Hotch nodded, Reid continued. "I was wearing nasal filters, but they weren't enough. He sprayed me, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up to the sound of JJ's voice. But I wasn't  _really_  waking up. It was a part of the dream."

"The hypnotic suggestion."

Reid nodded. "Yes…..but it seemed so real! She helped me sit up, and then, somehow…I don't know, for some reason, it took me a minute to process that it was JJ….and when I did, I… I…I…"

Hotch laid a reassuring hand on his younger friend's knee. "Take your time. I know it's painful. But I also know, because I tried to avoid it, too, that it needs to be spoken. It was real to you, and you need to process it."

Reid closed his eyes and sighed, gathering himself for what he knew would be an ordeal. And then he described it to Hotch.

"I had no control of myself. Of my hands. They reached out, and one wrapped around her throat, and then the other one…and.."

Having to stop again, to try to regain his voice. Hotch waited him out.

"And I was yelling, 'No! No!', and I tried to release my grip, but my hands wouldn't obey me, they just kept choking, and choking, and…..."

This time, he couldn't go on. The memory of it was too real, and too painful. Reid lowered his head, and tried to wipe the image from his eyes with the heels of his hands. When he looked back up, there were tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I killed her, Hotch. I watched the life leave her eyes, and I was screaming for my hands to stop, and they wouldn't. She's the best friend I have in the world, and I couldn't stop myself from killing her."

It was Aaron Hotchner's turn to close his eyes. The anguish of the young man across from him was palpable, and it served as an unwelcome reminder of his own ordeal. He'd done his best to put it behind him. Now, for the sake of someone about whom he cared deeply, he might have to relive it.

He'd spent much of the intervening time psychologically dissecting what had happened. Why he'd seen what he'd seen. Why Scratch had done something different to him, from what he'd done to his other victims. He'd pondered, and theorized, and prayed to understand. And he'd come to a conclusion.

"Peter Lewis was brilliant and cunning. He blamed the people who'd been in his home as foster children, and been influenced to wrongly implicate his father, just as he'd been influenced. Deluding them into killing the people they loved felt like vengeance to him. Then, that night, he forced the psychologist behind it all to kill herself, and that should have put an end to it. But it didn't, because even as the case was unfolding, Lewis evolved. He developed a taste for power, for psychological dominance. For Lewis, it was never about the killing. It was always about the torment.

"We know he was watching us work, because of his attempts at interference. He resented our profiling of him, he felt like he wasn't being given due respect. So he decided to up the ante, to show us how he was more complex than we'd profiled. For Scratch, it was no longer interesting enough to end a relationship through death. He found it more entertaining to  _haunt_  the relationship, to watch us try to move through life uncertain of ourselves, and isolated from the people we care about."

Reid had been listening intently, hoping for a piece of wisdom, an insight, something,  _anything_  that might help him erase the images from his mind. He couldn't go through the rest of his life with some implanted sense that he could snap and kill someone he loved. And he didn't  _want_  to go through the rest of his life  _without_  that someone.

He'd been so intent on listening that he'd almost missed the inference. Hotch was telling him he'd been through the same thing.

"That's what he did to you? But why? Why did he target you?"

"He didn't. He was an opportunist. He chose me only because I was the first one in the house that night. His technique could have worked on any of us, because it was intended to let our individual subconscious choose our worst nightmare. He didn't need to know anything about me, or you. He simply lowered our defenses, and let our own fears conquer us."

Reid considered it. If Scratch had been aiming to have him live  _his_ worst nightmare, he'd been spot on.

"Do you… I guess it doesn't matter, does it? I was going to ask you what you saw. But all I really need to know is how you stopped seeing it."

Hotch waited a few beats before responding. He knew that what he had to say would be far from what Reid wanted to hear.

"I didn't. That's the hard truth. I've never stopped seeing it."

Disappointment spread over Reid's face as he digested the words. Recognizing it, Aaron Hotchner's affection for the younger man demanded that he explain, no matter the cost.

"Peter Lewis entered my mind that night, and released one of the monsters I feared more than anything else. One I kept caged, so I could function."

Reid thought he understood. "Jack. Something happening to Jack."

Hotch shook his head. "That's in a separate cage. The one Scratch released was circumstantial. My own mind made the decision which it would be. I knew the team was on its way, I expected you to enter the house. But, when you did….."

His voice shook and trailed off, prompting a sympathetic response in the younger man.

"You don't have to do this. It won't change what happened to me. It's all right, Hotch."

But Hotch knew better. "I  _do_  have to do this. You need to know what I saw, and you need to know that it's possible to move on from it."

Hearing the urgency in Hotch's voice, Reid conceded.

"All right. I'm listening."

The older man heaved a calming breath before continuing.

"I saw you enter the house. And then I saw you searching a hallway. I should have known, then, that it was a delusion, because I was lying in the living room, and I  _couldn't_ have seen you in the hallway. But I did. And…and I saw a flash, and blood, and I saw you go down. Then JJ came into the hall behind you, and she started shouting that you'd been hit, and….. it was obvious from her reaction that you'd been killed."

" _She_  wasn't…was she?" Perversely worried about her, even in Hotch's delusion.

The older man gave him a grave look. "She was the only one of you who wasn't. I saw Morgan shot, and Dave. My worst nightmare had come true, that I'd failed all of you. That I'd lost you. And then you arrived… _really_  arrived, and I….I couldn't make sense of it. For a while, I couldn't make sense of anything. Even when Dave got me outside, I was having trouble knowing what to believe."

Reid's eyes widened in recognition. "That happened to me, too! I came out of it for real, and JJ was there, and I couldn't think. I'd seen her die at my hands, and I didn't know what to believe. I didn't know if Scratch wanted me to see her alive, just so he could hurt me again, by showing me she was dead, or maybe even by making me kill her again. Even telling it, I realize it makes no sense. But, at the time, I didn't trust my eyes, or my mind….or my hands. I made her cuff me, so I couldn't hurt her." He put his head in his hands again. "Even now….how do I know  _this_  is real? How can I be sure?"

As he listened, Hotch began to realize that JJ had been traumatized, too, that there was another of his former agents who might need debriefing. But the one in front of him needed it most urgently.

"I know it seems bleak, like you'll always be caught in this netherworld between two realities. But it's not. I'll have to ask you to take my word for it, because I can't offer you proof. The only thing I can tell you is that I realized I needed to latch on to the good. There was nothing Scratch showed me that wasn't made of evil. So I latched on to the good. From that time forward, every time we took down an unsub, every time we reunited a victim with a family, I latched on to it. Every time Jack smiled, every minor triumph that I once took for granted, became a marker for my life, my  _real_  life. I knew that Peter Lewis didn't have it in him to permit joy, or satisfaction, or love. So I knew that  _my_  reality was the one where those things existed."

Listening, Reid teared up again, this time in gratitude. It rang true, what Hotch had told him. He could embrace that.

"But what do I do about the images? I saw her die, Hotch! I saw myself killing her! I can't…. I can't…"

"You can. Reid, you  _can._  You have thousands of images in your head that aren't what you saw in that delusion.  _Use_ them. Be conscious of when the bad is creeping in, and replace it with the good. Make new memories. They'll appeal to your sense of logic."

"Logic? As in, if I can make new memories,  _this_  must be my reality?"

"Exactly." Hotch leaned in to him. "You have an advantage that I didn't have. I chose to hide what I'd been through. You've already shared what you've seen. You're not fighting it alone. Let the others help. Let  _JJ_ help you. In fact, I dare you to stop her."

For the first time in their conversation, Reid smiled.

"I'm afraid of her."

Which made Hotch laugh. "To be honest, so am I. But only when she's in 'Mother Bear' mode."

"I think she's in it now."

"Then you'd better shape up."

They both chuckled at that, and then Reid made an observation.

"So, by your logic, if we're smiling, this must be real?"

"Even if it's not, I'm choosing it."

"Then so am I."

* * *

They returned to Diana's room to find her asleep, JJ still sitting beside her. A tap on the glass brought her outside.

"You guys okay?" Eyes darting back and forth, studying both of them.

Hotch let Reid answer. "We will be."

"Are you telling me I'll have to settle for that?"

Hotch grinned at the blessedly familiar pushiness. JJ had always known how to move them, gently but firmly, into whatever needed to be done.

He looked at Reid. "See, I told you."

Reid smiled, looking down at JJ. "I'll take it."

But the image of her smiling back at him, precious evidence of love, and life, and reality, overcame him, and he had to blink back tears. She was quick to put her arms around him.

"We  _will_  get there, Spence. I promise." Then she brought one arm out, and drew Hotch into the embrace as well.

"I love you two guys."

They held together briefly, an awkward three-way hug in the middle of the busy hospital corridor. When they broke apart, JJ had a question for her former boss.

"What will you do now?"

He'd already decided. "I'll take Jack to see his grandfather, and Jessica. He misses them terribly. From there, who knows?"

"Would you consider coming back to the FBI?" JJ had sorely missed him. All of them had.

The dark brow furrowed. "There are a lot of things to consider." Not mentioning the one he'd shared with Reid. "But we do miss our friends in DC."

JJ nodded. "Fair enough. I know how hard it is to do the job with a child at home. But, for the record, I'd be thrilled to have you back. And, if you're worried about Emily, I know she feels the same way."

"Speaking of," said Hotch, "I promised I'd meet them for dinner. You two coming?"

Reid begged off. "I want to be here when Mom wakes up again. We need to talk about what to do regarding the drug trial, and whether she wants to stay here, or come back to DC. I know Garcia has already made some arrangements, but it needs to be Mom's decision, for as long as she's capable of making one. At least I learned that much."

"Wait until you hear what  _I_  learned," said JJ. "Your mom and I had a nice long talk while you two were gone. Spencer Reid, how come you never told me you'd been in the circus?"

_**FINIS** _

* * *

Thanks to all who took the time to share your thoughts and comments. Writing is so much more satisfying when it's a conversation.


End file.
